Story of My Life
by It Slowly Faded Away
Summary: It's second year and Harry Potter continues under the alias of Louis Thompson. As his secrets threaten to destroy him, he finds solace in an unlikely ally. And why does Luna Lovegood keep approaching him? Sequel to "Hide Away". Metamorphmagus Harry.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

 **Warnings: Slight grammar issues (no beta and no time to really majorly edit so I go back later to do that. Plus, my computer autocorrects things without me noticing), dark themes, lowkey depressing but not overly so, just sad. Mentions of child abuse will occur throughout this fanfic. Nothing graphic. Mentioning of a sort of eating disorder (really though it's a lack of appetite brought on by depression) and self harm of a minor character (very briefly) will occur later on, a warning will most likely be posted then. These will not be graphic whatsoever.**

 **You've been warned guys. I don't want to hear anything about it.**

 **Also, if anyone would like to be my Beta, I would appreciate it as I don't have the time to go back and edit, I barely have the time to write haha. PM me if you're interested. Not really sure how all that works to be honest.**

 **Another warning for the story: At times I will use the name Louis and other times, Harry. His appearance matches the typical form of the name associated with it and thus the company he is around. Keep this in mind.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter nor am I making any money.**

 **Please enjoy.**

* * *

 _February, 1989_

 _The ninth year._

 _Rain fell from the sky in large droplets, hitting the ground with the heavy echo of a forgotten word. He ran quickly, feet crashing against the cement of the sidewalk, splashing into puddles of water, making the liquid rise up his pant legs. The fabric clung tightly to his skin but he ignored it, pushing forward, around sharp corners and pass trash cans and light poles. Behind him, Jeremy Stevens was chasing him._

 _He had been scouring the streets for almost two years now, having started only two months after he was left here in France, and had met Jeremy five months in. Jeremy was one of the local boys who lived in a run down apartment in Paris. He wasn't the richest of children but he wasn't the poorest. They had been almost acquaintances at first, with Louis watching the way the boy fought with other street kids and how easily he picked pockets of the men walking. Jeremy had noticed his wandering eyes and instead of snapping at him and cursing at him in French, the boy had merely smirked and let him continue, only making Louis pay a sort of exchange rate in the form of fresh apples._

 _But then Jeremy Stevens had met Henry Davidson and he became Stevens, no longer the somewhat friendly Jeremy of the past. Henry was also a local boy, local, to Louis, being anyone he had seen in Paris enough to recognize, but unlike Stevens, he wasn't living in an apartment. No, Henry lived in a nice, elegant home of pure white. It wasn't large, as one didn't need such a large house here, but it was significantly larger than St. Joseph's, the orphanage Louis resided in, and considering that shack housed over twenty people in it, that was enough for Louis to mark the boy as a rich kid._

 _Indeed, Henry fit the part with his shiny shoes and neatly brushed hair and tailored coats. He was a figure of elegance, possessing a grace that even Louis envied. Henry had a bike and many toys and even a dog with scruffy, black ears but he was not content. He was, what Louis would call, the typical troublemaker. He was not okay with being a simple child, he wanted more. He wanted action and so Henry came to the streets and befriended who he saw as the biggest threat: Jeremy Stevens._

 _Jeremy was, in fact, the biggest underage threat on the streets. He knew how to fight well, having taken classes his mother signed up for him and had honed out here on the block. He was crafty and resourceful and knew the tricks of the trade and Henry wanted him and together the two of them were sharp and unstoppable. Davidson and Stevens. Davidson was what one would call the brains of the operation. He knew business, his father owning a large, successful company that was steadily growing all across Europe, and thus the boy had a sharp tongue and a quick drawl. He could outtalk anyone and handled negotiations like the best of them. The boy had surely been watching his father's business deals, listening in on phone conversations and pressing his ear against closed doors. It was he that picked who to steal from, what venues to target next, and who to trade with and for what. The boy could lie just as well, staring into old ladies faces with a sad pout and staring wide eyed at officers because "no, sir. I haven't seen any boy like that. I'll be sure to find you if I do." On the other side of the coin, you had Stevens, who was most definitely the brawn. He was who got his hands dirty, picking pockets and snatching up food favors. Stevens was the one to punch the kid that thought they could steal from_ _ **their**_ _corner without paying up. Stevens was the one to run from the police should he be caught. It was Stevens that did all the heavy lifting, getting the merchandise and handling any sorts of conflicts. If Louis were being honest, Henry Davidson had been a genius with his planning. Stevens would never rat him out and so he would go down alone should they ever be caught._

 _As Louis was running from Stevens now though, he wasn't admitting to Davidson's genius. Not at all. He was cursing his ruthlessness and heavy hand of control. Louis had been stupid, having decided, earlier that day, that he wanted to get bread for dinner that night. Unfortunately, this week, the only venue selling bread nearby was on the street Davidson had claimed as his own. This doesn't necessarily stop him from stealing there though, as Davidson wasn't a fool. No, should one want to venture there for products, they had to pay a fee. Either in the form of money into Henry's open hands or by giving up half of their loot to the boy. Louis, however, had no money and half a loaf of bread wouldn't be enough to bring home anyway, making the trip useless, and so he had gone anyway, narrowly avoiding the two boys. He had been caught by them leaving with his bread though and so here he was, running._

 _He ran hard, turning down an alley filled with boxes. Before he could start cursing though he saw an escape and crossed his fingers though. Jumping onto a box crate, he ran across a closed lid of a dumpster and heaved himself over the metal gate at the back of the alley, landing hard onto the ground, feet stinging from the impact. He tossed a grin back at Stevens, who was cursing, not being lithe enough to do what LOuis had, and turned another corner-_

 _Only to run into Jesse Marks._

 _Jesse had moved to Paris with his older brother six months ago and had quickly befriended Jeremy and Henry. In a sense, the boy was just another form of muscles, though not as skilled as Stevens, he was faster and knew how to handle a knife. A knife, which he had in his hand now. Behind the ratty looking boy was Davidson, who was smirking, leaned up against a building, had concealing his eyes in its shadow._

 _Hearing a thump behind him, Louis's head snapped around to see Stevens, who was brushing his knees and grumbling. He may not have been lithe, but that hadn't apparently stopped the boy from trying and, eventually, succeeding._

" _Well, well, well," drawled Davidson, stepping forward into the light from the streetlight on the nearest corner. "If it isn't our little friend Thompson."_

" _Henry." He uttered back simply, shifting his back so that he could face all three of them at once. Stevens was to his left, blocking that exit, and Jesse was to his right, blocking the other. Henry was roughly in the middle, edging towards the right a little so that he couldn't slip through. Not that Henry's placement mattered. Now, ahead was the metal gate with no way of jumping over. He eyed the small knife in Jesse's hand, with the boy's fingers wrapped over it firmly._

" _Thought you could get away?" Smirked Davidson, edging just a little closer to him. "Without saying goodbye? How rude."_

 _Louis tossed him a friendly smile that was out of place, given the circumstances. "Oh you know me, Henry dear. They don't teach us street rats and orphans manners. Shame, really."_

" _Yes, quite." Henry cut in. "How about a quick lesson now? Pay up or I'll show you what happens to thieves."  
Louis pursed his lips and tilted his head as if he were considering it. "You'll cut off my hand? Isn't that a little too French Revolution for you, Henry, dear? Not proper taste, at all!"  
_" _Such a smartass. Very well then. Stevens. Marks."_

 _The first punch came to his abdomen. The next to his face._

 _He went home that night without any bread and a face full of bruises and cuts._

 _He went back to the same street the very next day, pockets empty._

* * *

Harry pressed his head back into his pillow, shifting his body more into the warmth of his bed. He didn't want to get up yet, even though he knew he had too. Odds are, it was already lunch time.

He was at Potter Manor, the main family home for his ancestors, and had been so for almost two weeks now. It had been three weeks since his first year of Hogwarts had ended, three weeks since he had first officially met Lord Voldemort and saved the Stone with his friends, and during those three weeks, he had done much.

When he had bid his friends goodbye, sending off well wished and "see you soon"'s, he had first taken the next train to Paris, France that Flitwick had set up for him. When he had arrived in Paris, much later and much more tired, he had paid for a cab to take him to the orphanage, to St. Joseph's, and went right inside. He had talked to the Matron and informed her that one of his friends from school was hoping he could spend the summer with them and that, in a weeks time, would be sending someone to fetch him, should she agree. She had, almost immediately, flashing a soft, tired smile. For that first week, he stayed mostly at the orphanage, listening to the younger boys prattle on about the previous Yule and how he missed some random donation and how happy the Matron was. Little Timmy had excitedly showed him his new bear, proudly presenting the soft, golden fur thing that had not a single tear or smudge. When the week was over, he had all of his bags packed and ready to go and had held back a laugh when the Matron questioned the nervous Gringotts employee. When she had released the poor boy, who later confided to him that he was just a trainee and was just told to "go along with whatever story was given", the pair of wizards had taken a portkey that immediately brought them to the front steps of the bank in England.

It was after that trip that he came to Potter Manor, not just with his bags and Sanguini and Natasha but with a pouch full of money and papers explaining his banking statements and properties and such and a copy of his Ministry file, which had recently been updated to include him emancipation documents, signed and approved by the goblins themselves because, apparently, only they had to agree when it concerned the last heirs of a major family line.  
When he first saw the Manor, Harry could honestly say that it wasn't what he was expecting, not at all.

Potter Manor was a three story home, the three levels being a basement, ground floor, and one upper floor. The ground level opened up to an entrance foyer with attached rooms on the side and a set of staircases framing the doors that revealed the back of the home. Upon entering the home, to your immediate left was a music room that Harry loved to spend his evenings in, running his fingers over the keys of the grand piano inside and playing the violin, caressing the bow between his fingers. Next to the music room, in a small hall tucked neatly by the stairs, was an office that held a great oak desk and a portrait above a fireplace mantle.

On the opposite side of the foyer was an entryway that lead to the formal dining hall, which Harry had barely spent a minute in, and a coat closet.

Nestled between the staircases were two doors filled with marbled glass at their centers, closed. Behind them was, mainly, the sitting area and wide windows. Attached to the sitting area by hall was a small, private dining area and the kitchen, as well as the door that lead to the back gardens. Behind a door that rested in a sort of hall between the sitting room and the kitchen, behind the smaller dining area, there was another hall that lead to the pantry and the quarters for the house elves, which apparently also housed the laundry room.

Downstairs, in the basement, which could be entered from a door near the office, was a well stocked and equipped potions lab, a sectioned off dueling pad and weapons room, and another sectioned off room, which he later learned was a sort of holding cell that could only be entered by the Head House Elf.

Upstairs, on the highest floor, were the bedrooms and the library. In the area between the staircases was the library, hidden behind some more marbled glass filled doors. The rooms were in halls by the library, beyond the stairs.

To the left there were two guest bedrooms and a bathroom. To the right, there was the Master's bedroom, called the Lord's room here, and another bedroom.

There wasn't much outside the Manor, the front yard being composed of an average sized garden and a white marble fountain. The back yard was almost entirely a garden with a water fountain, made entirely of rocks it seemed, at its center. There was a walking path that lead from the Manor, past the fountain, to a small secluded area that consisted of a little pool full of some kind of fish, a greenhouse, and a wooden bench. The entire property was, as far as he could tell, surrounded by trees and wards, the ward stone being in a hidden room beneath the basement that Harry hadn't seen.

The tour of the whole Manor was given by an older House Elf by the name of Genevieve. According to her, she had been in service of the Potter's since the birth of Harry's father, James. She had been his Nurse, his Nanny, so to speak, and as James grew older, her job shifted to working for his home. When Master Charlus and Lady Dorea passed, the Head House Elf at the time died too and thus, she, as the new Master's sole elf, was given the title of Head House Elf. She hadn't been at the Manor much after Master Charlus's death, Master James putting the caretaker elf in charge of the estate as he and Lady Lily wished to reside in Godric's Hollow, the very cottage Master James's parents had gifted him as a wedding present. When Young Master Harry was born, Genevieve took care of the cottage more and assisted his mother when able, or rather asked as his mother hated asking for help, according to a chuckling Genevieve. The night his parents died, Genevieve, having not been assigned to Harry, was forced to return to the Manor. She tended to it, keeping it cleaned so that it would be ready should he ever return to it. Genevieve was the last Potter elf, the old caretaker elf having had passed a couple of years ago. One of the first things Harry did was ask Genevieve where they could find a House Elf willing to care to the lawn, as she had no idea, and Genevieve had informed him of a shop off of Knockturn Alley that rehoused freed and abandoned elves. While he didn't necessarily like the idea of buying an elf as if it were cattle, as if it were property, he went, with Genevieve, and had her find a friend. She had returned, twenty minutes later, with Ahmed.

Ahmed was perhaps the kindest beings Harry had ever encountered. He was older than Genevieve by a few years and spoke French and German only. Thankfully, both Harry and Genevieve knew French. Nonetheless, Harry had bought books on how to learn German that very same day so that Ahmed could have someone to converse with in that language too.

When they had returned from that outing, which had taken place the same day he had first arrived to the Manor, Harry using the Portkey that was weaved into the magic surrounding the Potter heir ring he had received from Gringotts earlier (he had to be fifteen to take the Lordship) they had all taken a late dinner and gone to bed. The next day, Genevieve woke him up for breakfast and he spent the rest of the day scouring the library with her and working in the greenhouse with Ahmed. Genevieve, it seemed, loved literature and he had immediately told her she could borrow a book at any time, unless he was, of course, reading it himself. Ahmed, on the other hand, just enjoyed the sun and for about two hours, the two of them, Ahmed and Harry that is, had sat on the bench, trading stories.

His days had been pretty similar to that one since, though he had recently started to go through the bank statements and personal family files, sitting in the study, trying to ignore the watchful eyes of the portrait to his right. A portrait that Genevieve had said was of his grandparents, Charlus and Dorea. So far, neither party had tried to talk to each other.

It was in the study that Harry sat now, looking over business contracts that the Potter family had with various companies and other pureblood families. Reading over a paper that concerned the shares of some hair gel or spray or whatever company, he idly twisted a quill around.

"Young Master Harry?" A high pitched squeak said from behind him and he jumped, jerking his hand as he was caught in surprise. Sighing a laugh, he set the quill and paper down and turned in his chair to face Genevieve, who clutched a couple of letters in her hands.

"Gen. What did I say about calling me that?" He smiled kindly, holding out his hand for the letters. Genevieve smiled back in a maternal sort of way as she passed them over.

"My apologies, young Harry." He shook his head. He may never get her to completely drop the extra terms but at least she had dropped Master. One point for Potter.

"When did these arrive?" He asked her as he turned them around to read the return addresses, placing them in front of him onto the desk.

"Not even ten minutes ago, young Harry. One came from a rather old owl and the other by the tawny owl, sir."

Harry opened the first letter on the top, which seemed to be from the twins. Straightening out the parchment, he quickly read over the alternating set of handwritings and colors before his face split into a grin. Fred and George had talked to their mom, who said their friends could come whenever they wanted starting Friday, and so, on Saturday, which was exactly one week and a day away, they would fetch him from Kings Cross so his ass better board the train to London that day. Laughing, Harry shook his head. The nerve of those two.

Tossing their letter to the side to look over again later, Harry, still smiling, quietly and slowly opened the other letter. This one, it seemed, was just another statement from Gringotts. Sighing, he set that one on top of his stack for the day, shoving it under all the rest. Looking over at his tall stack of things to read and review, he exchanged a wary glance with Genevieve, who looked like she was about to start laughing at him much to his frustration, and sighed.

He had work to do.

* * *

He scratched away at the parchment, approving the purchase of a stick in an upcoming broom company, lifting the quill to gain some more ink from his pot.

"Young Master Harry." Genevieve called by his elbow. He continued to write, ignoring her.

A weak sigh. "Young Harry."

He set the quill down and smiled at her, clasping his hands. "Yes, Gen?"  
The house elf shook her head, amused, and handed him two more letters and set a plate of food and a fork onto his desk, right by his ink pot and stack of papers. She snapped her fingers and a cup of something found its way onto his desk too, seconds later.

He raised an eyebrow and held onto the letters, tilting them away from him as he looked at her. "And when did _these_ get here?"

"As I was making dinner, sir. One came by a tawny owl, another with Hedwig, sir."

"Hedwig?" He repeated, bringing the letters around to his chest.

Hedwig was the snowy owl that Harry had purchased himself two days ago and had sent off to pay a little visit to Azkaban in hopes of Sirius Black sending back a letter, something he had been doing with the school owls when term had still been in session. Hedwig, in the short time they had to socialize, had immediately struck Harry as a stubborn, prideful owl that he assumed would practically force Black to write back. It seemed that he had been right.

"Yes, sir. She flew back out the window when I took the letter from her. I think she's in your room now, sir. On her perch." Though he wasn't the Lord yet, Harry, as the sole heir and Potter left, was able to go ahead and take the Master bedroom, much to his pleasure. Right by the window, which he kept open with a weather repelling charm cloaking the area around it (bless the wards for blocking the Trace), was a silver owl perch he had bought for the snowy owl. It was, by far, her second favorite place. Like Sanguini, she preferred his shoulders first.

Thinking of the snake, he turned his head to look at the creature, which had draped itself on the back of the sofa that was placed in front of the roaring fire, which he insisted on being lit, despite the fact it was summer. Natasha agreed with him apparently as she too was stretched out on the floor in front of the fireplace, sleeping soundly. He sighed. She was huge. Flitwick would not be amused.

Turning back to Gen he nodded. "Alright then. Thank you, Gen. You don't have to worry about me for the rest of the night. I'm going to bed after I eat dinner. Go enjoy a book." Smiling, Genevieve bid him goodbye and was gone.

Looking down at his plate at the healthy, small portions, he sighed heavily. God he hated Madam Pomfrey's meal plan but at least he could say he was doing. Mostly because Genevieve was making him after she found the list in his bags while unpacking.

He hated house elfs.

 **A/N: I just want to start this by saying I am soooooo sorry for the wait. There isn't much of an excuse other than I got distracted by a lot of things and just didn't have the will to write but I really am back now. Or at least I'm hoping to be. You may have noticed this was the original chapter and I want to warn you that the first few are basically the original as well with minor changes but you'll see my adjustments pretty quickly so bare with me. I still have a projected 25 chapters for the sequel and let me just tell you guys that things are about to get really crazy. This story is my block setter. It'll be fun. Again, thanks for everyone that's stuck with me and I really hope you guys enjoy this.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

 _Dear Harry,_

 _I was glad to receive your letter and to hear of Ahmed. Make sure to treat him right. I know, I know. I can hear your indignant protests from here, young man. "Of course I'd treat him right, Remi! I'm always nice!" Blah blah blah. Just let me be an adult and tell you what to do, kid._

 _All joking aside, I'm happy to hear that you've taken up learning German. Are you sure it isn't too soon? You just finished Spanish, yes? That makes you fluent in five languages, cub. Your parents would be so proud of you. Lord knows I am._

 _It's beautiful over here. You'd love Jamaica, Harry. The culture is absolutely riveting, the sights are to die for, and the people . . . . It's just an amazing place to see. Plus it's nice and warm for your privileged french self. Don't even deny how much you hate the cold in Britain, kid. You can't fool this old dog._

 _I should be back before you have to leave for Hogwarts but if we don't get to meet up before you head back, well . . . maybe I'll see you in Hogsmeade sometime, Prongslet. Not that I'm encouraging any sneaking out, of course. Responsible adult here._

 _I've included a postcard for you. Maybe you could start a collection? It's your third one from me, now._

 _I'll send another letter in a couple of days._

 _Stay safe._

 _Yours,_

 _Remus_

Smiling softly, Harry folded the letter back up neatly and slid it back into it's envelope, which he slipped the postcard from and after viewing that, placed it into a drawer inside the nightstand next to his bed. He was hoping to buy a large map, some pins, and colorful tape later to build a representation of all the places Remus visits on his little world tour.

Harry met Remus sooner than the man had planned. Remus, he learned, worked for a university near London and due to scheduling conflicts, was able to give his finals early, thus allowing the man to start his summer vacation early (after he completed his own work and paperwork of course). They met two day's after Harry had returned to Britain and he now knew the man for roughly two, three weeks.

During that time, they had spent almost every day together, Harry inviting the man to stay in one of the guests rooms down the hall. This was his father's friend after all and after a talk with Genevieve was highly trusted by his parents and highly trusted by the elf herself too. Gen had almost started crying when she saw Remus again, which had made the man blush and awkwardly pat her back, much to Harry's amusement.

The days they had were a little weird and uncomfortable at first, neither really knowing what to say or how to start. Being polite was easy, being friendly and sociable was not. At least Remus had the same problem. After a day or two of that though, Harry had had enough and forced the man to eat some syrup soaked pancakes and tell him about his parents.

Remus had been a little hesitant in the beginning, not really knowing what to share and what not to. He had given the story of how he had met James first but when the man had slipped and called the man "Prongs", Harry had quickly confronted the man about the Marauders. When Remus learned that Harry and the twins had found the Marauder's Map and were actually studying and replicating their own copy of it, the man had released a relieved sigh and had warmed up, telling Harry of all the pranks James had committed.

It didn't take long for Remus to reach the road block that was Sirius Black though. James Potter no doubt did many solo pranks and pranks with just Remus himself or even with the fellow named Peter Pettigrew, but there were so many more done with Sirius Black. When Remus first uttered the man's name, it had come past his lips with a happy smile and warm touch only to be quickly regretted and dragged down into silence, Remus apologizing the whole time. The man had stood up and excused himself to his room, where he stayed until dinner.

Harry hadn't tried then to tell Remus his theory about Black. He couldn't, not yet, and so he let the man sulk and pretend like nothing mattered, pushing it away and forgetting, as if he could.

The next day, at breakfast, Harry had shyly asked about his mother.

When Remus talked about James, he spoke of the boy that would run his hand through his hair and trade smirks with all the guys as if they were friends. He would speak of the boy that chased a snitch with his hand as if it were a coin and tossed quaffles in the Gryffindor dorm rooms. He spoke of vanilla milkshakes and hamburgers and potato wedges. He spoke of James laughing and grinning, turning people's hair purple and charming the suits of armor at Hogwarts, the boy that found humor in everything and was almost always smiling. He spoke of a boy, a man, that was more loyal than anyone, that would stand up for his friends in a heartbeat and would fight for your with his dying breath. A man that was a fighter and a king, all at once.

When Remus spoke of Lily though, he talked about a girl that lived and breathed fire. He mentioned her sharp, quick tongue that was ready to put anyone in their place, should it need to be done. He spoke of the girl that had the softest eyes, the kindest smile, and the gentlest of souls. He spoke of the girl that liked cherries and pencils in her hair and mismatched socks and neon nail polish. He spoke of the girl who liked to braid her hair and was an expert at charms and hexes. He spoke of the girl that danced in the rain and did puzzles by the fire and played muggle card games at dinner, snatching up all the chocolate frogs when she beat them all at poker. He spoke of a girl that was friends with the loneliest of them all and punched the most popular girl in the whole school in the face, breaking her nose, for calling her a Mudblood in sixth year. He spoke of the girl, the woman, that would cry with you and hold your hand as the world fell apart, promising the whole time that she'd keep it together. A woman that was the brightest fire, the brightest sun, in all the land. The most beautiful queen he had ever seen.

Harry treasured the moments Remus would sip his tea and tell him, speaking in a soft, sad whisper that Harry could hear all to clearly in the blessed silence of the room. He treasured the weight of Remus's hand on his knee when the man would tell him goodnight, right before he stood up to leave. He treasured the way Remus would look at him and tell him not that he looked just like his parents but that James too bit his thumb when he had an idea that was most likely bad and that Lily also only drunk hot chocolate for breakfast, never anything else. Harry treasured that Remus could give him a part of his parents that he could never otherwise had and he hoped that, in a way, he was helping Remus too. Because Harry saw those tired eyes when Remus would look out the window in the mornings, thinking him to be asleep in his room. He saw the way Remus would rest his head on the table and sigh deeply, as if he were the most exhausted man on the planet. He saw the forlorn, lonely smiles thrown at the pictures in the albums Remus brought from his home one day. He knew how alone the man felt because, even surrounded by his friends, Harry had felt it too. He still did.

* * *

It was around two in the afternoon when Harry decided to venture around the house again, this time into the only bedroom by the Lord's quarters.

The Heir's room.

Genevieve had told him, during her first tour of the Manor, that when Young Master James had first left the Manor to live with Lady Lily, Master Charlus and Lady Dorea had decided to leave his room the exact same way he had left it, that way he would know it was always ready for him, always there for him. Just like he left it.

They had done this with two other rooms, at the opposite end of the hall. One door held a plaque that read "Sirius", the other door a plaque that read "Remus". Remus hadn't gone into either one of them. He had only brushed his fingers over both names before turning his head sharply and venturing into the other guest room, shutting the door behind him with a slam.

Harry had avoided entering his father's old room at first. He wasn't ready to see it, hadn't wanted to yet. He didn't know what was inside and didn't feel right entering. He didn't know the owner whatsoever. It felt like a violation of privacy.

When Remus had moved in shortly after Harry had given the invitation to do so, he had given himself the excuse that it would be rude to explore when hosting a guest, something ingrained into him as a child during lessons organized by Shira. But Remus had left for his vacation not that long ago and he had no reason to avoid the room anymore. He was being stupid. Childish.

His fingers shook as he turned the knob to the door.

When the door was wide open, he met dark red walls. Hanging from the ceiling, in the corners, proudly hung the Gryffindor House banners, surrounding a wide, oak bed that had gray blankets and pillows. The bed was made neatly, most likely thanks to a house elf, and on both sides of the bed were oak nightstands. On one of them was a book and a folded pair of battered glasses as well as a snowglobe. Harry walked slowly into the room.

On the other nightstand, there was a picture frame a tiny, worn out stuffed yellow elephant. Swallowing, he picked up the picture frame and felt his throat contract, tears welling up in his eyes. There, stood his parents, laughing and smiling at a muggle carnival. His mother was wearing ripped jeans and a gray tank top, her hair down in messy waves and had her arms thrown around his dad's waist, pressing herself close to him, smiling broadly. His father had his arm around her shoulders and was laughing. He was dressed similarly in light blue jeans and a white tee, a small yellow elephant pressed to his heart by his other hand. Harry watched as his mother rose on the tips of her toes and kissed his father's cheeks, ducking her head down and blushing into his neck after doing so, much to the man's delight.  
Harry ignored the tears rolling down his cheeks as he smiled, placing the picture down after several, long minutes. Sniffling, he cleared his throat and looked around some more. Light brown curtains shielded the only window in the room and he separated them, coughing a little a some of the dust. Beside the window was a small bookcase chalked full of transfiguration and magical theory and defense books. Atop the bookcase were little trinkets. He found a pair of dog tags, bearing Sirius Black's name oddly enough, and a box of chocolates that were probably gross by now. He also found a nice, muggle chess set there, midway through a game. Beside the bookcase was an oak desk. It was messy, parchments arranged in weird piles, at different angles. There were open and closed pots of different inks and quills carelessly tossed about it. Pulling back the chair, he sat down and pulled open the only drawer. Inside, he found all sorts of typical muggle office things, like pens and sharpies and tape and sticky notes. He also found a tightly bound leather journal and upon opening it, found a bunch of random scribbles and intricate drawings. Every page had the name James Potter etched into the corner tightly. He ran his fingertips over the pages as he flipped through it slowly for a second, looking at a few pages. Closing it, he held it by his side as he closed the drawer and stood up. He smiled as he saw the plastic dinosaurs on the windowsill and the dragon curled in the corner, presumably sleeping. He look down at the recently vacated chair, at the light brown leather jacket that was draped there and lifted the coat up, adjusting the drawing journal so he could slip the jacket through his arms and onto the shoulders. It was pretty big, especially on Harry's tiny form, which was smaller than Louis, who he was more used to by now, but he wasn't bothered.

He grabbed hold of the jacket and bringing it closer to his face, he breathed in. Very faintly, so much so that he wasn't even sure he was actually smelling it, he swore he caught the scent of cigarettes and jelly beans. Smiling, Harry left the room, shutting the door behind him, journal in hand, jacket on his shoulders.

* * *

He was back in the study, surrounded by legal papers and half eaten snacks, when he remembered the letter Hedwig had delivered yesterday night.

"Genevieve?" He called out, sitting up from where he had been slumped in his chair. Genevieve popped into the room.

"Young Master Harry?" She answered, eyes wide with expectation. He gave her a pointed look for the title but otherwise refined from responding to it.

"Can you fetch that letter from last night for me? It should be on my nightstand."

Without even responding, the elf popped away and returned less than ten seconds later, said letter in hand. He thanked her when she handed it over, and she popped away again, this time not returning.

Giving a breathless little sigh, he leaned back into his chair, back stiff, and used a letter opener to . . . well, open the letter.

Biting his thumb and then his lip, he unfolded the small piece of paper and read what was on it.

 _I don't know how you managed to slip an owl into Azkaban, not once, not twice, but multiple times. Props to you._

 _So you think I'm innocent, huh? You must be crazier than ME._

 _What makes you think I'll trust you, Mister HJP? If that's even your real name?_

 _Either send something concrete or leave me the hell alone to die in peace._

Blinking, Harry set the letter down onto the desk. He couldn't say he was surprised but he wasn't quite expecting that either. Looking at it, he couldn't help the smirk that twitched its way onto his face. Black wanted proof of his loyalty? Then he'd give it to him.

 **A/N: Please review.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Harry had known Fleur Delacour for only about a year or so. He had met her shortly after Shira. In fact, it had been on one of his rare outings with the vampire that he had been on where he was introduced to the young Veela. Fleur had been thirteen at the time, three years his senior. She had been a lively, refreshing site for the young boy and not because of her beauty, though she did have much of that. No, Fleur had captured him with the simplicity in which she smiled. She was one of the rare souls that seemed to enjoy life, really enjoy it, and for a boy that had seen many terrible, broken things, it had been quite a sight, A treasured one.

Shira had known Fleur through the girl's father, an informant for the Light that Shira traded secrets from the Dark Lord's army through. It had been at a meeting between the two that Harry and Fleur had met. The minute the door had been shut and warded behind the girl's father, the young Veela had snapped her head over to look at him.

She had then threatened to slap him if he stared at her longer than necessary.

"I'd prefer to look at the painting over there actually. Much more my taste." He had sniffed.

They'd been friends ever since. Or rather, as close to friends as the two of them were allowed to be.

The complexity of the thing between them was more like that of a relationship between business partners. Fleur was the eldest daughter and heir to a very important politician. She was already being groomed to lead a legacy. There were a lot of eyes on her, a lot of people watching and waiting, judging. She couldn't afford to make mistakes at this stage of her private education and so, like any good heir, she was preparing herself. She was already making the right kind of friends, setting the stage for a family she would lead one day.

Which is where he came in. He was Harry Potter, one of the most famous individuals in the Wizarding World. An international hero, in a sense. More than that, to her though, he was the heir to many lines. He would be one of the most influential individuals in the pureblood circles and political arena. He was a driving force by himself and Fleur wanted him to be in her corner, or to at least have his voice and ears set aside for her to appreciate as she so chose to.

They had quickly established a partnership. Harry found that he thought the girl to be quite charming. She was quick witted and sophisticated. She could talk circles around several individuals that he knew while simultaneously playing the act of a dumb blonde. She had cutting remarks and sarcastic insults. The veela knew how to use her inheritance too, smiling coyly and sashaying her hips. He had seen it all in action during a summer ball last year, when Shira had dragged him along for a "practical exam". Fleur had owned the room and as her lucky date, or rather as Ralph Markey as her date, he had been the subject of many envious glares and excited whispers. It was under her guidance that he learned how to command a room and own it.

He didn't meet up with the girl often and while they certainly didn't owl or visit each other, there was an unspoken amount of trust between them. They were the underdogs of the pureblood society, both young and doubted. Harry, since he was an orphan and alone and a halfblood, and Fleur because she was a woman and veela. They stuck together, were allies, and as such, could call in favors that were just given with not even a glance. She needed a date? He was there. A spy? Who better than a metamorphmagus? He needed an ear? She was there. It came as no surprise then when he firecalled the Delacours mansion and asked for her, nor was it a surprise when she stepped on through into Potter Manor mere moments later.

She brushed off her skirt and took a look around, silver blonde hair falling over her bent shoulders. "You have a very lovely home, Harry." Her accent, while thick, didn't cloud his understanding of her english. While it was true that he was perfectly fluent in french, the two of them liked to trade off on which tongue they used. Today, it seemed, was for english.

"Thank you. The house elves have taken excellent care of it while I've been . . . away. Would you care for a tour?" He knew her answer before it was even uttered.

She smiled thinly but genuinely. "Perhaps another time. We have business, no?" There would be no other reason for him to have called her and she knew it.

"Very well. Let's take this to the office." She nodded and they walked in silence up the stairs and to the room, Fleur casting looks at things as they went. He noticed several hums and nods.

When they arrived in the room, he guided her into the chair in front of the desk, taking the one behind it for himself.

"What is it you want, Harry?" Fleur began outright. There were no hidden messages between them. Both Harry and Fleur preferred frankness. They didn't need to dance around each other with words and secrets. Things just went easier when one was honest and quick right upfront.

"Read this. It should give you a good idea of what I want." He carefully slid over a file that contained several papers, one of which being a copy of the letter he sent to Sirius Black. The name, of course, was concealed.

Fleur opened the file and read over it, stormy blue eyes skimming over the words carefully. He could visibly see her brain working every second as fast as possible. Her face, however, revealed none of her thoughts. He blinked as he watched.

After several minutes, Fleur closed the file and placed it back on the desk from where she had been reading it in her lap. She clasped her heads over the wood as he silently took the file and placed it back in his desk, wandlessly charming it back.

She stared directly into his eyes, their gazes locked fiercely. Waiting. Finally, she reached over and grabbed a spare piece of parchment and a muggle pen. She wordlessly wrote several things on it before pushing it at him. Glimpsing over it and reading the words upon it, he nodded sharply and folded it in half before sliding it back over. She slipped it into the inside breast pocket of her coat.

"It will be difficult to gather what you wish. But not impossible. I am assuming you want this to be done as discreetly as possible?"  
"Yes. The fewer that know the better."

Fleur nodded. "Papa will be able to get this, with the Minister's approval, should he have enough evidence and from what I saw in that file, you have more than enough."  
"I'll send you copies of everything you'll need." responded Harry quietly.

Fleur nodded. "You will owe me big for this, Potter." She stood up. He did as well and together they headed towards the door.

"Don't worry, Delacour. I already have something in mind. If I get what I want, I will almost have to do so." She cast him another look and held out her hand. He shook.

"One of the house elves will show you out."  
"Thank you." Fleur straightened up her coat and opened the door, taking a step out. Before she took another, however, she froze and turned her head to look at him. For the first time since she entered the manor, he saw no coldness. "Harry?" She whispered. He tilted his head. "Promise me you won't do anything foolish? That you'll take care of yourself?"

For the first time that summer-no. For the first time in months, he felt the walls he guarded himself with crumble just a little. Enough to let her in. He smiled at her. Lips barely turning up. "I promise, Fleur. Thank you. Stay safe."  
Her eyes roamed over him and should she be the kind to do so, he knew she'd have bit her lip too. She looked as if she might say something but instead she nodded and with a "you too" turned away and left. He could hear Gen leading her to the Floo. Sighing, Harry turned around and rested his palms against the wood of his desk and breathed out slowly through his nose. It was hard to be king.

* * *

He turned the old watch over his palm, fingers brushing over the scratched glass and worn leather band. He had had this watch for several years. It was one of the very few things he had left from his time in Little Whinging with the Dursley's.

He wondered about them sometimes, the Dursley's. He wondered if Vernon still worked with drills and still thought himself all important. If the man was still large set and liked his bacon just slightly crispier than regular. He wondered if Petunia still wore softly colored dresses, even though they washed out her skin, if she still kept up that prize winning garden now that he wasn't around to take care of and guide it. If she still liked her blonde hair in tight curls and listened through the fence for every scrap of gossip she could get. He wondered if Dudley still hanged out with Piers and Malcolm and those other boys, if he still whined for the newest toy only to discard it days later for something else. If he still ate those mars bars he used to hide in his room under his pillow and read through the blasphemous marvel comics his parents refused to buy for him.

He would be turning twelve soon and despite the amount of times he tried not to, he couldn't help but wonder if they would have even noticed his birthday.

Thinking about the days long since past, he thought probably not.

Sighing silently, Harry held the watch against his wrist and looped the metal through the holes, securing it in place. Tapping the glass once, he exited his room and headed downstairs and into the kitchen.

"Gen." He greeted the aged house elf as he saw her cleaning the already pristine counters.

"Master Harry, sir." She bowed. Lip twitching, he refrained from correcting her.

"I need you to get me a ticket for the train that will take me to Kings Cross this upcoming Saturday. I will be spending the rest of my summer with the Weasley from that point onward."

"Of course, sir. Shall I make arrangements now?"  
He tipped his head. "Please."  
A pop signaling her departure, Harry turned to the recently modernized kitchen and began to pull out a pan and a cutting board and some ingredients. Slowly chopping an onion for spaghetti, he hummed to himself. He had a guest coming.

 **A/N: Super short and super late. I apologize for that. My summer has been crazy and I'm back at college now (which makes me want to stab myself (kidding)) but hopefully I will be picking up a rhythm soon and updates will pick up. I honestly hate this chapter and I wrote most of it a while ago and when I came back to it I had like no actual motivation so I know it sucks but here it is. Deal with it. I am. Next chapter is in the works.**

 **Thanks and welcome back.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

He stirred the sugar around in his tea, tapping the spoon delicately against the china. Setting the spoon down, he lifted the cup to his lips and took a long sip, breathing in the scent of rich tea leaves and honey. Closing his eyes for but a second, he relished in it.

Drawing back, he set the cup back down on and lifted his gaze to his guest.

Shira turned her tea cup around in circles on it's plate, fingers dancing slowly, methodically across its rim. Her dark eyes watched him, scrutinizing. Judging.

"I reviewed your test scores you sent me. You're progressing well, child. Even though that coursework was child's play for you." She smirked.

"It gets the job done. I can't over perform after all. I know the standards they expect me to be at and as long as I don't go out of my way to be . . . exceptionally brilliant then no one is any wiser." He took another sip of his tea. "Besides, being in Ravenclaw makes my professors practically expect perfect grades and performance. No one questions it. They're not even that impressed. Don't worry. I'm staying under the radar, just as promised."  
Shira hummed, the speed of her fingers slowing a bit as she lost herself to her thoughts. It soon picked back up though. "And your friends?"  
"Neville Longbottom and Draco Malfoy for one. Both heirs to prominent families. Opposing lines at that. Best of both worlds."  
The vampire's lips twitched a little. "And you believe we can trust the Malfoy heir?"  
Harry nodded once. "He feels overshadowed by his father's beliefs. Pressurred. Being sorted into Gryffindor, letting the hat do so even, has open up doors for him. He knows he has options now. I don't think he's afraid to make them either. At least, in the end. At present, I'm not sure he's ready. He still wants approval."

Shira remained silent for a minute, thinking over what he said. "Keep a watch over him then. He'd be valuable. What of the Longbottom heir?"  
"At first, Neville seemed too shy, too understaffed, both in power and himself. As the year grew on though I realized his untapped potential. He has confidence issues and is perhaps a bit too trusting of others but he has character. There is definite promise there. He has already proven to be a strong ally and from what I heard from him so far, the Longbottom's would favor a third side anyway."  
She gave a pleased hum. "Good. That's excellent. Who else?"  
"Nymphadora Tonks, for one. Recent graduate. Metamorphmagus. She has been teaching me a few things, though she is unaware of my true identity. She's applied, and been accepted, into the auror program. Very forward thinking and powerful young woman. She's also a descendant of the Black's. Halfblood though."  
"I like her. Her blood won't be much of an issue. We'll need equal representation. Besides, being a Black and a Metamorphmagus will be more than enough for the more traditionally inclined purebloods, should they come calling. Next?"  
"Hermione Granger. Muggleborn. Very sharp mind. She's a quick study and more than decently powerful, though a bit narrow minded. With a big enough push though I think she'd be a very good ally. She's innovative. Progressive. She'd be able to add onto that side of things for us, particularly with the muggle influence. She's not arrogant in her mindset though, maybe a little bit but not enough to not consider things that oppose her. Eventually. She's probably the most difficult one I have."  
"If we can get a muggleborn on our side early on that'll draw in more, weakening the Light. From what little you've said I believe she'd be a valuable addition. Start making her think a bit outside the box. Throw her for a loop. Make her see things, Harry." Shira pressed forward, fingers coming to a halt. Finally.

Harry gave a clipped nod. "Of course. Shall I continue?"

Shira took a sip of her tea and gave him a look, signaling the go ahead.

"Finally, there's the Weasley twins. I'm very confident in them. They're highly intelligent, resourceful, clever, and inventive. They know strategy and tactfulness well. They're also pretty good at sneaking around and are both powerful on their own but especially together. The twins feel a bit smothered by their family, I think. As if they couldn't ever get as much air as they needed. On our side they'd be able to spread their wings, something I know they want more than anything. From the way they talk, the opinions they have, I believe they'd be amenable."  
"That's promising. Very much so. Having children from a dominantly light family will look good for us, especially if you manage to mangle in the Malfoy heir and even the Longbottom heir. You're doing well child. What else have you gathered?"  
"The Ravenclaws seem to be very neutral in their opinions surrounding the problems of the previous war, making them a prime target. Gryffindor will of course mostly side with the Light and SLytherin with the Dark, with the exception of certain circles. Hufflepuff is a mixed bag, few Dark, and the rest split pretty evenly between neutral and light. They would be the next group to focus heavily on, once seeds have been planted of course. Hopefully, Neville and possibly even Tonks will do that for us." Shira nodded. He continued. "Dumbledore is keeping the location and concerns of Harry Potter under wraps. I believe it's about time we cause a bit of some unrest there. Rock the boat a little. It'll keep his distracted and perhaps show the other professors reaction to such a thing. I suspect McGonagall in particular would be enlightening. She doesn't seem as straightforward as I believe some people tend to portray her as."  
"I'll drop a few words with my contacts in the Prophet. See what I can do. Maybe even have some "confirmed sightings"." Shira smiled minutely. His eyes flickered with mischief for a moment before he wrapped it up tightly, not wanting that expressed so openly. Shira didn't agree with such displays.

"I have nothing else of import to report." He told her, finished. Shira gave him a glance, eyes narrowed.

"Nothing? Are you sure?" He thought about Voldemort and his studies of the man, his studies of the magic that clung to him desperately. He thought of the leather jacket and journal in his room, the remains of his parents that he was hopelessly researching. He thought of Remus Lupin and Sirius Black and the letters he sent out. He thought of his deal with Fleur.

"I'm sure."

* * *

That Saturday, Harry found himself boarding the train. Having had flooed over from Potter Manor to the train station in France, he was finally able to set his bags down and head to England, where he would be met with the twins and their family (some of it anyway).

Closing the compartment door behind him, he took a seat on the worn seats, checking to make sure his bag was where he left it above him, right before he had gone to the restroom. Sighing, he leaned heavily into the foam, closing his eyes.

A soft hissing disrupted his peace. Sanguini slipped his head out from where Harry had hid him underneath the sleeve of his jacket (well, his father's leather jacket).

" _Why do I have to be on this monstrous creation again?"_

Harry refrained from rolling his eyes. Sanguini and he had already had this conversation. " _I told you, we're going to stay with the Weasley's."  
_ Sanguini hissed a short stream in annoyance. " _Yes but why take the train when we could have just had the elf take us?"  
_ " _They're expecting us to come from the train, San. They'll be at Kings Cross, waiting for us, and even if Gen had just brought us over when the train from Paris is expected to arrive, odds are they'll have arrived early. I can't take any complications into account ahead of time, meaning I don't know exactly when the train will arrive. To avoid any suspicious questions, it's easier to just take the train from the start."_

He could feel the snake coil in frustration, his scales gliding across the smooth skin of Harry's hand. " _I still don't want to be here."  
_ Harry finally rolled his eyes. " _Yes I know. You've said so. Get over it. Don't forget we'll have to take the train to Hogwarts anyway."_

Sanguini didn't respond but Harry was sure he could guess what the creature would have sassed and moaned over anyway.

Harry looked over at Natasha, whom he had left on the opposing seats to him. Natasha had been a bit difficult to bring along the train. It's not every day that someone brought a mostly tame tiger aboard after all. Fortunately, with Hogwarts approaching, Harry had already looked into ways to hide her size, and even her appearance as a more than decently sized tiger cub. At a little over a year, Natasha was more than easily hidden, that was for sure. She would not conveniently fit in his robe pockets anymore. Knowing this, Harry had owled Professor Flitwick, who had charmed a silk scarf for him that would size itself to fit around Natasha and once in place, would reduce her size to that of a regular housecat or at the least a nine week old tiger cub. If he so chose it, he could tap his wand to the scarf, utter a word, and she would have an illusion placed on her to make her look like a white cat. It was with this scarf that Natasha the siberian tiger cub had managed to board the train as a small white cat. She had not been pleased with the change, to say the least, and as soon as he could he had slipped the scarf off of her. After placing a wandless muggle repelling charm on the door to his compartment first though. And locking it. Just in case.

"Sanguini is sure being hissy isn't he?" He asked her. Natasha just stared at him flatly. Harry chuckled. "Get it? Hissy? Because he's a snake?" Natasha continued to look at him. He could feel the disappointment from there. Sighing, he waved at her. "Everybody's a critic."

Sanguini hissed unhappily at him. Harry ignored him.

Standing up, Harry slipped his bag down and grabbed his father's journal from it. Sitting back down, he caressed his hand over the worn leather and slowly opened it, breathing in the scent of old, heavy paper and stale ink.

Flipping through the first few pages, he took in the delicate sketchings of magical formulas. His father had designed warding, using arithmancy and ancient runes underneath heavy layers of charms mostly, and so on the pages were cascading plates, squiggly numbers and symbols, complex equations even he didn't quite understand. Picking up the book and doing a quick scan, Harry noted that many, many pages were like this one: full of ideas and theories. He couldn't help but wonder what James was working on and if his father had ever proven what he was seeing here. Knowing what happened, Harry doubted it.

Skipping a couple pages, eyes searching, he eventually stopped on the first non academic piece. On the soft page was a drawing of a boy who had dark curls falling in his eyes, charcoal heavy but light at the same time. He peeked up at him through lashes, stormy blue eyes, the only splash of color on the page, peered at him and at first, Harry saw mischief and life there but the longer he looked at it, the sadder the boy seemed. Moving his thumb across the drawing, he traced over a sharp jawline and high cheekbones. Thumb over his throat, he could almost believe that he felt the boy breathe.

It was the most alive piece of art he had ever seen.

Swallowing thickly, he closed the journal quickly and slid it under his thigh. Breathing through his nose heavily, he scratched at his face and curled up on himself.

For a second there, Harry had seen himself, even when he knew that was the face of a young Sirius Black.

* * *

"Oi! Thompson! Get your scrawny arse over here!" A voice yelled over the crowd he was currently making his way through.

"George! Language, please." A tired male's voice cut through. He snickered as he heard a weak apology in response and then a crack from Fred.

Politely excusing himself between a pair of women, Harry made his way towards the wall he could see the twins and who he assumed to be their father lingering around. _No. Not Harry._ He chastised himself, lifting his bag up to avoid colliding with a small child. _You're Louis now._

"There's our favorite little git!" Fred grinned, throwing an arm over Louis's shoulders as George ruffled his blonde hair. Harry had made Louis favor a slightly darker blonde this year, more dirty than the soft blonde he had started the boy with. He had also gotten a "haircut" as Louis now sported a military style cut.

Harry _(Louis)_ gave fred the stink eye as he elbowed George in the gut. "The only gits here are you two." He turned to Mr. Weasley and stuck out his hand. "You must be Mr. Weasley. It's a pleasure to meet you, sir, and please let me offer my condolences. Dealing with these two must be quite a challenge. It shows how strong a character a father like you must possess to be able to handle it. You have my utmost respect, sir."

Mr. Weasley shook _Louis's_ hand firmly, a broad grin on his face as he nodded solemnly. "I admit, it was a challenge. Molly and I prevailed though."

"Hey!" The twins chorused together in mock outrage.

Mr. Weasley chuckled warmly. "I like this one, boys. And it's a pleasure to meet you as well Louis, I've heard nothing but good things from all my children. And please, call me Arthur. You're practically family already, son, especially if Molly has anything to say about it."  
Louis smiled, pleased, and nodded. "Thank you, sir."

"Good man." Arthur bent down a little and clasped the handle for Louis's bag, lifting it easily. "Trunk in here?" Louis nodded. "Excellent. Well, best be making our way home now, boys. Your mother has dinner cooking." He turned to Louis. "We'll be travelling by Floo, are you familiar with it?"  
"Professor Flitwick and I have travelled through the Floo several times, sir." Louis fibbed.

Arthur nodded.

Together, Harry and the three Weasley's made their way out of the train station and down the sidewalk into a little restaurant that Louis would have missed had he not been paying attention. Pulling out some floo powder, Arthur passed it to Fred, pushing him towards the fireplaces that lined the back wall of the dingy little restaurant. He felt Sanguini shift under his sleeve. Looking down at Natasha, he was suddenly glad he had sent Hedwig ahead.

"Now Louis, all you have to say is "the Burrow". The wards around it have been let down for a few hours to allow easier access so don't worry about a password." Louis nodded his understanding and not long after, disappeared in flames behind the twins.

Stepping out of the fireplace, coughing just a bit, he lifted his eyes and looked around. He found himself standing in a cluttered sitting room. With multiple, mismatched couches and armchairs, all decorated with various sized pillows and brightly colored blankets, and bookshelves filled to the brim with all sorts of things, the room was filled with life. A grandfather clock stood against a wall, near the window, and he watched as three spoons with Fred, George, and Arthur's faces on them moved from Traveling to Home as Mr. Weasley stepped out of the floo behind him. He continued looking as he heard the man walk off, greeting his wife with a yell of her name.

Little knickknacks lined shelves and table, traces of everybody that lived there just hanging about. He could hear the faint tune of an old record on the player, unfamiliar with the artist, and he smiled as he caught sight of several shoes, none matching. A basket of yarn and knitting needles rested against one chair, the same chair that a pair of needles clicked together above as they knitted something dark blue, patiently. A Quidditch magazine rested on the coffee table next to a hairbrush full of red hair. Several buttons littered around a lamp and a windchime dangled next to the window, chiming softly as wind blew in from the open crack. He smiled brightly.

"This place is awesome." He breathed, meaning it.

Fred peered over at him. "Yeah?" He said casually, but Louis could detect that hint of doubt, of self consciousness.

He smiled wider. "It's the best thing I've ever seen. I love it." And he did. Louis loved it with ever fiber of his being. From the cracks in the floor to the chips in the paint and the dents in the wall right down to the pictures on the side tables and the pile of laundry on the back wooden chair and the metal tub full of paint brushes and gardening tools and screwdrivers. He loved it a lot.

George shrugged, unpulsed. "Well . . . it's home." Louis saw him smile a bit smugly.

Breaking the moment, a door to his left was pushed open and he saw Mr. Weasley and a woman he knew to be their mother appear in the room. She smiled gently at him and pulled him into a warm, tight hug that made his spine pop and lungs lose air. He liked her immediately.

"You must be Louis!" She said, pulling back and framing his face with her hands. "Look at you, you must be hungry, dear. Don't worry, dinner has just finished up. Fred. George. Get the others." As George and Fred yelled and took the stairs by two steps at a time, Mrs. Weasley guided him into the kitchen, where he could practically see the love in the air. She kindly pushed him into a chair and turned around to grab the last bowl of food she had cooked, the rest of the table already set.

The rest of the Weasley's quickly filled the room. Mr. Weasley took a seat at the head of the table, Mrs. Weasley soon taking the seat to his right. Percy Weasley sat across from his mother, on his father's right, and Ron Weasley took a seat next to Percy, which placed him next to Louis. Nodding at him, Ron began to fill his plate before the twins even took a seat, both across from Louis, leaving the seat to his right, the other seat at the end of the table, open and empty.

"Where's Ginny?" Mrs. Weasley asked the room at large. Fred shrugged but before anyone could respond the kitchen door slid open again and a young girl with matching bright red hair of the others made her way in and took the remaining seat. She gave him a confused look before realization seemed to draw on her and she turned to her plate, muttering an apology to her mother.

At the unspoken word, everyone began filling their plates, each chatting amongst themselves easily. Conversation flowed and food was passed, spoons and forks clinking against plates and bowls, glasses being emptied and refilled quickly. Louis smiled at the feeling of comradeship he felt.

As he was listening to the twins, Ron, and surprisingly Ginny discuss Quidditch, Mrs. Weasley's voice cut through.

"So Louis, how was your trip over? It must have been a bit taxing, coming all the way from France. You must be quite tired, dear."  
Swallowing the bit of food he had just taken, he nodded slowly. "It was fine, Mrs. Weasley thank you for asking. And I'm used to long hours and trips so I'm not all that more tired than usual if I'm being honest."

"You're from France?" Ron asked, brows furrowed. A bit surprised the boy didn't already know this, Louis hummed his affirmation.  
"Why go to Hogwarts then?" Ron pressed on, still confused. "I mean, yeah Hogwarts is awesome but wouldn't your parents want you a bit closer to home?"

Feeling as if he had just been punched in the chest and the air was stuck in his throat, Louis failed to answer quickly. George jumped up for him.

"Ron, you idiot." He hissed, glaring at his younger brother. Fred's face matched his and Ron shifted uncomfortably next to him.

Clearing his throat around the lump that had found it's way there, Louis looked at the boy. "It's alright." He placated the twins, sending a look towards Mr and Mrs. Weasley as they looked apologetic as well. He turned back to Ron. "I'm an orphan, Ron. Raised in an orphanage in France. I'm originally from England though, hence my admission to Hogwarts."

"Oh." muttered Ron, who looked uncomfortable and deeply sorry. "Oh. I-"  
Surprising him again, Ginny interrupted his, no doubt, awkward apology. "You must know french then." It was not a question.

He turned in his seat to look her straight on, Grey-blue eyes locking with her brown ones. "That is correct."  
She raised an eyebrow challengingly at him. "Go ahead, then. Say something."  
"Ginny!" Mrs. Weasley gasped, apparently appalled enough at her children and their rudeness/bluntness. Louis was unperturbed though.

"Je mappelle Louis Thompson. J'ai douze ans. J'ai les cheveux blond et les yeux gris. J'aime danser et lire." He rasped out quickly, but making sure to pronounce things slowly enough for her to really hear. He stuck with simple things, something he knew someone with a basic understanding of french (very basic) should be able to understand.

Her lips twitch as she fought a smile before she straightened her face, focusing, Tipping her head a little in thought, he smiled as he knew she was trying to figure out what he said.

"Your . . . name is Louis Thompson and you are . . . neuf, dix, onze,ah! Twelve years old. Um . . . uh . . . you have blonde hair and . . . grey eyes. Oh! And you like to dance and . . . read?"

He grinned proudly at her. "Très bon. Very good, Ginny."  
She grinned smugly, confidently. He heard Percy and Mrs. Weasley compliment and coo over her (respectfully obviously as Percy would never coo at Ginny if he wanted to keep his nose straight).

After that, dinner continued in light conversation, s=no longer strained or tense thanks to Ginny and he sent her a grateful smile when no one was looking. She smiled back at him and when it was time for bed, he waved goodnight to her as he followed the twins and Ron upstairs. Laying down on the spare bed in Ron's room (there being no more room in the twin's room for him), Natasha at the foot of it purring softly and Sanguini coiled up beside his stomach, Louis couldn't help but actually start to believe that this year, this summer, would be better than the last.

 **A/N: I was dreading writing this chapter but I actually enjoyed it. I hope you guys did too. Thanks for reading and please review.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

 _She sat by the bar, a drink in front of her. Untouched. The beer tasted stale on her tongue, too flat and too sharp at once for her to force it down. Trailing a finger along the glass rim, she sighed deeply._

 _A warm body took the seat next to her and she could feel the man crowding into her space, the scent of cheap booze on his breath and cigarette smoke on his clothes._

 _He placed a hand on her mostly bare thigh, the blue jean shorts she wore leaving much to be desired. "Now what's a pretty thing like you doing in a place like this?"_

 _She tensed before forcing herself to relax. She had a mission here. She couldn't afford to mess it up. Putting on an air of confidence that she didn't really feel, she tossed him a coy smirk._

" _Feeling a bit lonely tonight, I guess." She dragged her eyes over him in a blatant show of fake-interest. The man was dressed in layers, blue jean jacket concealing red plaid and a brown shirt. His hands were callused, workers hands, with something black under the nails. Mechanic, she guessed. Dark brown hair was pushed to the side as he combed a hand through it._

 _He tongue came out to wet his lips. He had noticed. Good._

 _The man shifted, bringing his hand up higher. A finger peeked its way under her shorts. She let it, tossing another flirty look his way, peeking through her lashes as she took a sip of the alcohol. It burned it's way down but she didn't flinch._

" _Well, I could help that. I've been looking for a bit of company, myself."  
She hummed. "Mm, I'm sure you could." She bit her lips. "Help, that is."  
He leaned against the bar heavily, fingers wrapping around his own beer bottle. He threw a smug look over his shoulder when he thought she was paying attention. She hid her own._

" _I'm Jared. And you are?" I know who you are, she wanted to say. Jared Griffin. Pureblood, married, father of two. Way too old to be flirting with a girl my age._

 _A target._

 _She stood up, invading his space. A little surprised, his hand reached out to grip her hip. "Doesn't matter." She grabbed his hand, lacing their fingers, and lifted it, slowing walking out, dragging him with her._

" _Well okay then." He chuckled, pleased. She heard him toss a goodbye to his friends. A "see you boys later"._

 _Smirking a little, she lead him out, knowing that none of them would be seeing him ever again. Not if she had anything to say about it._

 _Several feet to her left, another body stood and followed them out._

Louis's jerked forward, almost falling out of the bed as he struggled to check his surroundings. For several minutes, he had no clue where he was. Hearing a snore, he quickly turned, wand in hand, only to see Ron Weasley nestled in his own bed, sleeping peacefully.

Breathing harshly, he lowered his arm, letting his wand hit the bed as he took in the room. He was at the Burrow. He was staying with the Weasley's. He was safe.

When a moment passed and he still felt that tight grip around his chest, he threw the blankets to the side and swung his feet over the side of the bed. The cold of the hardwood floor struck him, comforting his nerves a little as he settled. Giving Natasha and Sanguini a placating word, telling them to go back to bed as he had woken them up, he stood up and quietly made his way out of the room. Trying to be quiet, he made his ways downstairs, wincing when one of the floorboards creaked under his weight. Pausing to listen, he heard no movement and breathed a sigh of relief. Continuing on, he went into the living room and took a seat on the couch.

Bringing his legs up to his chest, knees tucked under his chin, he closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of what he could only call life. It smelt old. He liked it.

"Louis, dear?" He heard a tired voice say from behind him. Twisting fast, wand rising just a little, as he caught up with himself. Lowering it and sliding it back into his sleeve (he took his holster off when he slept), he blinked warily at Mrs. Weasley, who stood at the base of the stairs in her pajamas, yawning.

"Mrs. Weasley. You're awake." He stated obviously. Mrs. Weasley merely smiled softly at him as she scratched her head, padding slowly towards him.

"Couldn't sleep?" She asked. He said nothing. She nodded in understanding. "Nightmares then?"  
He looked down guiltily. "Something like that." He shrugged.

Mrs. Weasley clicked her tongue, the noise sounding loud in the silence. He looked back up at it, eyes a little wider than usual.

"Do you like hot chocolate?" She asked suddenly. Blinking in confusion, he nodded. "Come along then."  
She turned and headed towards the kitchen, looking over her shoulder at him she waved a hand. "Come on now."  
Unfolding his legs, he got up and trailed behind her, taking a seat at the end of the table when she guided him to it with a hand on his shoulder.

They sat in silence while Mrs. Weasley busied herself making hot chocolate, warming up milk on the stove. Louis stared down at the grooves in the wood before him, tracing his finger over little nudges and nicks. It was bruised but loved.

When Mrs. Weasley finished the hot chocolate, she came over to him and handed him a big bowl of a cup, her own drink in her hand. He thanked her and held it in his lap as she took a slow sip of her own, wincing a little at the heat. She took the seat to his right.

Sitting in the dark kitchen, sipping at hot chocolate, neither willing to break the quiet just yet, Louis let himself think about nights he had seen Petunia do this with Dudley. He had watched through the crack in his cupboard, listening, as the two of them, and sometimes three if Vernon had gotten up as well, chatted over warm milk or tea. He had never been allowed to go to them, should he have been scared of his own thoughts and dreams. He had learned that lesson once.

"When I was little," Mrs. Weasley began quietly, voice hardly above a whisper, "my mother would make hot chocolate whenever something bad happened." Louis looked up from his cup. "When I had nightmares, for instance. When I was sick or sad or just had a bad day. Whatever the reason, she would make it and we would just sit and talk. Sometimes about nothing, sometimes about everything. When she died . . . " Mrs. Weasley faltered a little here before she picked it back up again. "When she died, I thought about these moments and on the day of her funeral, I made hot chocolate for my brothers and I and we just sat around the kitchen table, telling stories of her." She paused, staring into her nearly empty cup. "I miss her."

He took a sip of his drink. "I don't really remember my parents." He confessed, a sense of shame encompassing him.

"They died in a car accident, yes? When you were a baby?" She asked gently, eyes kind. He nodded.

"I went elsewhere after that."  
"The orphanage?"  
He hesitated before shaking his head a little. He saw her frown. "Fred and George said . . . "  
"They don't know." He interrupted her, eyes burning. Mrs. Weasley stayed silent but he could feel her curiosity, could tell she wanted to ask.

"B-before I went to the orphanage I lived with this family. They were appointed my guardians by the government, I guess. I lived with them for several years before I went to the orphanage." He looked down at his hands, hands that were wrapped around the slowly fading heat of a cup. "They didn't like me very much."  
"Oh. . . of, dear. . . ." Mrs. Weasley said, the sympathy evident in her tone. He saw rather than felt her hand grab ahold of his, pulling it closer to her. "Louis, honey, look at me."  
Not really wanting to, he did.

"You listen to me, Louis," She began sternly. "I don't know what you've been through, can't even begin to imagine. Quite frankly I'm not sure I want those answers, if I'm being honest. But, I can tell you this." She gripped his hand more firmly, squeezing it tightly. "Fred and George . . . they care about you and I can already see my other children beginning to do so as well. As far as I'm concerned, that makes you family." She smirked lightly. "You already have a Weasley sweater after all, son."  
Eyes and throat burning, he swallowed thickly. "Thank you, Mrs. Weasley."  
She flashed him another smile. "Anytime, dear. Anytime."

When Louis finally made his way back upstairs, over an hour after he had made his way down, he slipped tiredly into his bed. Sighing, he ran his fingers through Natasha's thick fur, gripping it tightly as he felt his chest expand, air making it's way in.

He heard a shift from afar.

"Louis?" Ron's tired voice said from his bed. "You okay, mate?"  
Smiling a little, the movement a little forced and pained but honest nonetheless, Louis nodded. "Yeah, Ron. I'm okay. Thanks for asking. Go back to bed."  
"'Ight." came back Ron's mumbled reply as the boy slipped back into unconsciousness.

Breathing in another breath that didn't quite satisfy him, Louis closed his eyes and rolled over.

 **A/N: Short chapter but that was planned so . . . . You might get the next chapter today too, just so you know. I'm in a writing mood.**

 **Please review :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Harry picked at the meal before him, frowning a little. He had owled Madam Pomfrey on his meal plan, telling her of his improvements as they were now on larger portion sizes and less frequent meals. He still had to eat a snack though and there was no way he could consume as much food as say Ron but he was doing better. Mrs. Weasley made sure he stuck to his plan and medication the mediwitch had given him. He hoped that by Christmas, he wouldn't be as dependent as he was now. Judging by the intense look Fred kept sending him though he suspected he wouldn't be allowed to lax off like he had ever again though.  
"Will you boys still be visiting the Tonks this afternoon?" Mr. Weasley asked as he took a bite of his toast. Louis looked up, confused.  
"We're visiting the Tonks today?"  
"Bullocks." George cursed under his breath. Not quietly enough though if the scolding look Mrs. Weasley sent him was to judge though. "I knew I forgot to tell you something."  
Fred snorted. "Tonks invited us to come over once you got here. When you owled us back, we agreed to meet today. Sorry, mate."  
Louis shook his head. "It's alright." In truth, Louis was a little miffed as he hadn't prepared for this course of action so soon. There were a lot of things he needed to discuss with the Tonks family and he hadn't planned on starting so soon. But, he supposed, he didn't really have to start now. Shira didn't know he was going to visit them today after all . . .  
"Oh," George piped up, bouncing a little in his seat next to Louis. "Draco might be there as well. We're not sure."  
Louis nodded but before he could comment, Ron spoke up.

"I don't understand why you're friends with that prick."  
George glared at him. "Draco isn't anything like his dad, Ronald. Just because Senior Malfoy is an asshat doesn't mean Junior is."  
"George! Language!" Mrs. Weasley snapped. Everyone ignored her.  
"You just don't like him because he turned your robes Slytherin green after you ran your mouth."  
"I don't see why he was offended anyway!" Ron barked. "It's not like that's his house, no matter how much it _should_ have been."  
Louis felt his jaw clench a bit at Ron's words. He didn't know how many times Draco had confessed to him how much he wished he had been sorted into the house his family saw proper. Draco came from a long line of Slytherin's and to them, he was an abomination for not only not getting in that house but also getting into Gryffindor. Sure he had made friends and was able to do things there that Slytherin wouldn't have allowed, but he was also looked at with scorn, not only by his parents and fellow pureblood heirs but by people like Ron who didn't think he deserved to be a Gryffindor in the first place. Draco couldn't win.  
"Take that back." Fred growled.  
"You don't know a damn thing about Draco, Ron." said George.  
"Well, I sure know what his dad is like, we all do, and what's that saying? The apple doesn't fall far from the tree? It won't be long before he-"  
"Alright!" Mrs. Weasley interrupted loudly. "Stop it! All of you."  
The three boys immediately quieted down, looking a bit cowed as their mother stood up, arms folded, an unhappy frown on her face.

She looked at all of them sternly. "First of all, I will not tolerate arguing at the dinner table. This is a meal, a safe place for family. You will not ruin that with your bickering, am I clear?"  
"Yes, mum." mumbled Ron.  
"Sorry, mum." chorused the twins.

"There will be arguing, I'm not unaware of that, but you will at least be respectable with it. Second of all, we have a guest and it's rude to be acting in such a way in front of him. Is this the kind of impression you want your friends to have on us? That we are at each other's throats constantly and can't control ourselves?" They shook their heads. "I know it's not what I want them to think. You will all apologize to Louis." She stared them down until they nodded in agreement. Louis shifted a little uncomfortably. "Last of all, Draco is a boy. He can make his own decisions. Just because he is a Malfoy doesn't make him the enemy, Ronald. How would you feel if everyone grouped you into something without asking? Without getting to know you, just making assumptions? It wouldn't feel good, now would it?" Ron's jaw was clenched tightly, eye twitching, as he shook his head bitterly. "That's right. I'm not saying Draco won't make bad decisions or that he won't end up exactly like his father one day but at this [point in time he isn't anything like him from what I've heard. You would all do well to remember that we are our own persons. We become who we want to be, who we let ourselves become."  
Mrs. Weasley stood above them, letting her words sink in, before taking her seat again and grabbing a biscuit, eating it as if nothing happened. Shortly after, Mr. Weasley hesitantly did the same. Slowly, breakfast continued with just a hint of tension in the air. It wasn't long before Ron asked to be excused, breaking from the room quickly. The twins left not long after, stomping loudly. Louis's hand tightened around his fork as he pondered what to do.

"So, Louis, you want to go outside with me? I have to feed the chickens, you can help." Ginny spoke from the other end of the table, tidying up her area, preparing to leave. Biting his lip a little, he nodded and stood up.  
They took their plates to the kitchen, leaving the Weasley parents and Percy at the table. "Sorry about them, by the way." Ginny said as she scraped off her plate.  
Louis shook his head. "It's alright. I'm kind of used to it. The twins pranked ROn often enough at school to embarrass him in front of his friends. He often yelled at them for it."  
Ginny snorted. "Yeah well, they're all idiots. Ron needs to learn to lighten up a little bit and get his head out of his arse. And the twins need to learn that they can't just attack anyone that disagrees with them. They tend to take things a bit too far sometimes." They set their plates by the sink and Ginny lead him towards where they kept the chicken feed, grabbing a bucket as they stepped outside.  
"Don't get me wrong, I love them, but sometimes they're just so . . ."  
"Annoying?" He smiled.  
Ginny smiled back. "Yeah."

They were silent as they fed the chickens together, Ginny letting his take small cups of feed to give to them. He felt very content there, with her. The sun wasn't very high up in the sky yet and it felt warm outside, not hot enough yet that they were uncomfortable. The wind was blowing gently and the chickens clucked around their feet, pecking at the ground and strutting around.  
When the chickens were fed and the bucket empty, he and Ginny went back inside and helped Mrs. Weasley clean up after breakfast, as they had now all finished. It took her a minute to agree to Louis's offer of aid but after he refused to back down, she seemed to realize she was fighting a lost battle and let him dry the dishes while she cleaned them and Ginny put them up.

Percy had already gone upstairs and Mr. Weasley was finishing cleaning up the table. When the last crumb had been wiped away and swept up, he walked over to the coat rack and hung his weathered coat across his arm, hat and briefcase in hand. He walked over to the sink and kissed Mrs. Weasley on the cheek.  
"Have a lovely day, dear." He said, waving goodbye to Ginny and Louis as he took his leave.

When they were finished with the dishes, Mrs. Weasley shooed them off while she went to start doing the laundry. Ginny lead Louis upstairs and into her room, leaving the door open. Quietly, he looked around.  
Ginny's room was more gentle on his eyes than Ron's had been, her walls being painted a soft green color. White, translucent curtains lined her window, nearly matching the light, cream colored sheets and comforter she had, which clashed with her grey pillows that looked very soft and nice. Posters of the Holyhead Harpies covered spots on her walls and a tall bookshelf lined with several books and sketchpads and various jars was next to her desk, which was mostly bare.  
"I like your room." He said sincerely. "It looks very . . . you."  
Ginny moved one of her pillows, straightening her bed up a bit. He smiled as he realized she was one of those people that made it every morning. A little surprising but it made a little sense too. He walked over to her bookshelf and peered at the jars there.  
More than one jar was filled with seashells and sand and little pebbles. He tapped the glass. Another jar had an assortment of flowers in it, mostly daisies and wildflowers and those wish-granting ones too. Another jar had paintbrushes in it, all with dirty handles but clean bristles. Looking around a bit, he saw some containers of paint a few shelves down in a basket that also held a stack of bound postcards, pictures, and an assortment of little trinkets.  
"My friend Luna gave me those." Ginny said as she stepped up behind him.  
"The jars?" He asked. Ginny nodded.  
She pointed at one of the jars that held seashells in it. "Luna and her father visit a lot of areas. They travel a lot. Go an adventures." She grinned at something private, no doubt in amusement and fondness. "Luna usually convinces her dad to take them to a beach or something and so every time she fills up a jar, she brings it to me with a stack of postcards. So I know where they're from. It's kinda like I've been with her, in a way."  
"That's amazing. She sounds like a lovely friend."  
Ginny nodded vigorously. "Luna's the best. Actually, maybe you can meet her before school starts. She lives just over the hill." Ginny gestured to her window where, sure enough, Louis could see a large hill.  
"I would love to meet her."  
Ginny pointed at the jar of flowers. "She gave me most of those too. There's a big field behind her house." Louis nodded and looked at the jar of paintbrushes. He thought of the jars of paint and sketchbooks.  
"Do you like art?" He asked her.  
Ginny shrugged. "I like to draw, yeah. Luna is more of the artist than I am but I paint sometimes too."  
He smirked. "You any good?"  
She snorted. "Not really. I don't really have the patience for any of it."  
He laughed. "I totally understand."  
Ginny gave another shrug, which seemed to make something click for her as she turned to look at him head on. "You any good at flying?"  
He gave her a secret smile. "Sort of. I'm not bad."  
Ginny flashed him a toothy grin. "Something tells me you're more than just "not bad"."  
"I'm sure you could still hand me my ass though." He snarked back.  
"Guess we'll see, huh?" She challenged before spinning on her heel.  
He followed after her as she left the room, red hair disappearing as she turned the corner.  
Yeah. He guessed they would.

* * *

Several hours later, in which Louis and Ginny had gone through many races and played a bit of catch with a ball before being joined by the twins and Ron and even Percy later on, Louis was standing by the Floo with the twins, ready to head on over to the Tonks's.  
"Alright, you've got everything? Ready to head on over?" Mrs. Weasley asked as she fidgeted with Fred's coat, before the teen shooed her off.  
He rolled his eyes. "Yes, mum." Mrs. Weasley scowled playfully at Fred.  
"Fine, fine. I get it." She grabbed the bowl of floo powder and passed it to Louis. "Remember, Tonks Resident. The password is Toaster."  
"Toaster?" Louis frowned, baffled by such a choice.  
Mrs. Weasley chuckled. "Yes, Ted, Mr. Tonks, picked it this week. Andromeda mentioned a joke he heard at work. Apparently he thought it would be funny."  
George snorted. "Bet Tonks just loves that."

With a nod from the twins, Louis stepped into the floo and cleared his throat.  
"Tonks Residence." He said clearly and as the green flames engulfed him, he uttered the password. Moments later, he was stumbling into a clean living room of warm, dark colors.

"Louis!" A female voice yelled cheerfully before he was hugged tightly to a firm chest.  
He laughed. "Hey Colors."  
Tonks pulled back and scowled. She ruffled his hair and rolled her eyes. "I'm not the only one and you know it so speak for yourself, Thompson." She whispered. He winked at her.  
"Touche."  
As the twins stepped out of the Floo and were greeted by a happy Tonks, Louis took a glance around the room he was in. Spotting a couple of pictures, he walked over to them.

In one frame was a wedding picture. A woman with wavy black hair in a fancy side braid smiled lovingly up at a man with light brown hair and smile lines. He assumed this was Mr and Mrs. Tonks. Next to that picture was one of three young girls. A girl with long, straight blonde hair stood in between two nearly identical black haired girls. They all wore straight, neutral faces and had their shoulders back, spines straight. None of them looked particularly happy. Beside that picture was one of a young girl with her arms linked with a familiar young man, both laughing and grinning. In the picture next to that one was of Mrs. Tonks with a young Nymphadora, who was laughing wildly in her lap, hair going through various shades of blue. He smiled.

"Oi! Louis! Come on!" Tonks yelled over at him, tearing his gaze away from the pictures. Following her, he and the twins were lead upstairs into her room. Tonks's room looked dark as a whole, the walls a dark purple and the furniture and bed sheets black. The wooden floors were a dark colored wood and she had the black curtains closed, blocking out the sunlight. Various muggle and wizard punk rock bands posters covered her walls. At a closer look though there were several bright splashes of color like her bright blue desk chair and the sunny yellow raincoat. Spotting a glass tank in a corner, he walked over. Inside was a iguana.

"Fuck yes! Who is this?" Fred grinned while George peered inside, bending to get a closer look.  
"Oh that's Larry. He's a sassy little shit." Tonks said casually, tapping the corner of the tank lightly. Despite her words, she smiled fondly down at the little guy.  
"George looked up at Tonks seriously. "Can I hold him?" he raised an eyebrow.  
"Sure." grinned Tonks.

While the twins fangirled and cooed at the iguana, Louis leaned into Tonks's space. "So how's auror training going?"  
Tonks groaned. "Oh Merlin it sucks ass. I swear I can hardly feel my legs. We mostly do PT, physical training, work and a couple of drills right now as they're trying to sharpen up our bodies. I know how important it is and for the most park I don't actually mind by jeez. Sometimes I can't breathe and I just want to die. I think I sprained a muscle in my thigh two weeks ago. Hurts like a bitch."  
Louis laughed, patting her shoulder. "You poor thing."  
"Oh shut it. I'd like to see you do it without crying."  
"I'm not the one that signed up for it, Colors."  
"Point." conceded Tonks with a shrug.  
"Oi! How do you put this thing down?" Yelped George from their right. Rolling her eyes, Tonks put Larry back in his tank. The four of them then piled onto Tonks's bed, Tonks and Louis at the head of it with the twins at the foot.

"So, Tonksie, how's life?" One of the twins asked. Louis was pretty sure it was Fred but he hadn't really been paying attention.  
Tonks snorted. "Just swell. I can't eat as much cake as I want anymore but I have abs now so there's that. My instructors have been riding my arse too which sucks but one of the older initiates said it was because they believed in me or show shit." She snorted again and George laughed at her. "Ooh! I also have a date this weekend." She smirked coyly at them and they all kind of sat up a little in eagerness.

"Ooh do tell." Fred purred.  
"Is he cute?" teased George, rolling onto his stomach and linking his fingers together underneath his chin.  
Fred blinked his eyelashes exaggeratedly. "Does he have abs?"  
"I bet he smiles at her with big eyes." George whispered loudly.  
"Makes her toes curl."  
"Flutter in her stomach."  
Tonks threw a pillow at them as they dissolved into laughter. "You guys are arseholes." She turned to Louis. "Can you believe this?"  
"Does he have a nice arse?" He asked innocently, eyes wide. The twins laughed harder and Tonks punched him in the stomach. He doubled over, groaning.

"Bastards the lot of you." She scowled.

When the boys finally got themselves under control, they managed to smarten up.

"In all seriousness," George said, still chuckling a little "what's he like?"  
Tonks glared at him for another minute before looking down at her hands, sighing a little. "His name is Conner. He's another initiate in my year. Best runner so yeah he has abs." She side eyed Fred.  
"Is he cute?" Fred asked, repeating George's question only seriously, all joking having left them now.

Tonks nodded. "He's got really blue eyes. Like deep and dark blue. Shaggy brown hair. Kind of a bad boy vibe which is always hot." She winked at them. "Kinda reminds me of Charlie."

The twins groaned.  
"Tonks dated Charlie when they were in school together, even though he's like more than a year or so older than her." George explained.  
"Disgusting as hell." grumbled Fred.  
"You guys are just jealous I got a piece of that." Tonks smirked.  
Fred rolled his eyes. "Yes because we want Charlie, _our brother._ "  
Tonks and Louis gave each other a look, about what Louis wasn't really sure but it must have been funny because they both just started chuckling.  
"Nasty." George hissed. Louis and Tonks laughter got a bit louder.  
Sides hurting, they leaned into each other. "O-Okay but yeah. Conner's great. I think you guys would like him." Tonks said.

"Do you think there's anything between you? Anything real, I mean." Louis asked her, finally breaking his silence.  
Tonks shifted her leg. "I don't really know, to be honest. I mean yeah he's cute and funny but he's also kind of an asshole and pretty arrogant. Who knows though. Maybe that's just apart of the bad boy image he's going for."  
"Or he's just an asshole." George said overly simple.  
She rolled her eyes but nodded. "Or that."

Louis placed a hand on her knee and gave it a squeeze. "Well I just hope you have a good time on your date."  
Fred nodded. "Yeah. Anything to keep you away from Char."  
Tonks hit him with her pillow again but laughed while doing it.

They stayed on the bed for another hour or so, just talking and messing around with each other. The twins told many jokes, sharing some of their best hits. Tonks talked about the things she was learning in the Auror Program and made many goofy faces, snarking at all of them. Louis showed them some wandless magic and helped them all plan out some pranks.

Mrs. Tonks popped her head in not long after they put on a Misfits CD.  
"Mum, I didn't know you were home." Tonks looked up, surprised.  
"I just got off. Arrived a few minutes ago. Dad's gonna be here with dinner soon too so I'd head on down in a minute or so."  
"Alright." said Tonks. Her mom left.

"Your mom's hot." George said when the woman was gone.  
Tonks groaned. "Dude, she's way too old for you. And married."  
Fred shrugged. "Details, my friend. Details."  
Tonks hit them with her pillow again.

"Dinner's here!" Mrs. Tonks yelled from the kitchen, which wasn't far from Tonks's room.

Scrambling, the four of them tumbled out of the room and headed to the dining room, where a man, Mr. Tonks probably, was placing three pizza boxes onto the table.

"Boys!" Mr. Tonks said, eyeing the twins. "Haven't see you little hellions in ages!"  
While the twins chatted with Mr. Tonks, grabbing slices of pizza with Tonks, Louis lingered back a little.

Mrs. Tonks stepped up beside him. "You're Louis, yes?" He nodded. "Nymphadora has told me a lot about you." She smiled kindly at him, lifting her hand to shake his.  
"It's a real pleasure to meet you." He grabbed her hand gently but turned it to the side and kissed it. Just like Shira taught him. Mrs. Tonks smirked.  
"A real gentleman. I haven't had my hand kissed since I was a teenager and mother made me go to all those fancy balls."  
"I was taught manners early." He blushed. Mrs. Tonks squinted at him, eyeing his face oddly, before nodding her head slowly.

Once the twins had moved and gone to take their seats in the sitting room, sharing the couch with Mr. Tonks, Louis and Mrs. Tonks grabbed their own plates and followed them in their. Mrs. Tonks sat in a chair and Louis sat on the arm of Tonks's.

Dinner flowed easily, conversation being natural with the Tonks family. Louis laughed as Mrs. Tonks and Tonks argued when Tonks was called Nymphadora. The twins traded dirty jokes with Mrs. Tonks while Louis and Mr. Tonks discussed muggle things, primarily Mr. Tonks job as a meteorologist for the news station. Tonks and George discussed charms at one point and Fred talked with Louis and Mr. Tonks about the latest Cleansweep broom. Mrs. Tonks told them all about a problem at work that left them all in stitches. All together, Louis hadn't felt this relaxed with so many unfamiliar people in a while. It was nice.

Louis went to put up his plate while Tonks and the twins were being shown something by Mr. Tonks. He almost failed to notice Mrs. Tonks following him into the kitchen. Fortunately he had heard the kitchen door swoosh behind her.  
Mrs. Tonks placed a hand on his shoulder. "Help me do the dishes?" Looking at the small stack by the sink, he nodded.  
While the sink filled with soapy water, Mrs. Tonks rolled up the sleeves of her shirt, passing a drying cloth to Louis.  
"So, Louis, you're a metamorphmagus?" She asked casually. He almost dropped the cloth in shock but somehow managed to keep a hold of it. Mrs. Tonks began cleaning some silverware.  
"H-How did you know that? Did Tonks tell you?" He could feel a bit of anger rise up in him at the thought that his friend had given away quite possibly his biggest secret.  
Thankfully, Mrs. Tonks shook her head. "No, I just recognize the signs."  
He tilted his head in confusion, feeling a bit like a bird doing so. "Signs?"

Mrs. Tonks hummed the affirmative. "Yes, they're pretty subtle but I raised Nymphadora so it's easier for me to notice those things. First hand experience and all that." She smiled at him. "Sometimes, your eyes fade into shades of green. Forest green. And your hair can't seem to decide whether it's a dark blonde or light brown. Thin line with that one, I'll admit, but I caught it just the same. You also have this freckle that is there one minute but gone the next. I thought I imagined at first, it was so quick and gone for so long, but then you turned your head again and I saw it pop up before going away. Like a flinch. It was right when Fred bumped your shoulder. You must have lost the consciousness out into then with your surprise." She passed him a plate to rinse and dry, the pair now done with all the silverware and cups. "You're very good, you know. Better than Tonks's was at your age. She could never hold things for long. I imagine it must be your experience and will. You have a very strong will, I can tell. Plus, you keep it up almost constantly. It must be exhausting."  
He swallowed. "It was. I'm used to it now."

Mrs. Tonks began cleaning the last of the plates. "Why do you hide?" She asked him quietly.  
He dried the plate in his hand a bit roughly, gripping it harder than necessary. "Why does anyone hide?"

Mrs. Tonks hummed. They both knew that wasn't a good enough answer or even the real one.

They finished the rest of the dishes silently before tidying up the kitchen, what little of it needed done anyway. As he was wiping down the counters, he looked over at her.

"Can I ask you something?"  
"Sure." She said, not looking up from her task.  
"Were you close with Sirius Black?" He looked down. "I saw the picture in the living room." He confessed a bit guiltily.  
Mrs. Tonks was quiet for a long time, not answering her question or even moving. She seemed frozen.  
She jerked herself out of it. "Sirius was my cousin. We . . . were very close. He used to babysit Dora all the time. Sirius was great with kids." She smiled fondly, no doubt lost in memories. "You should have seen him with his godson. I swear, he loved nothing more than that little boy. Not even his best friend, dare I say it."  
"The Potter's you mean?" Louis asked slowly, hesitantly. Mrs. Tonks looked up sharply at that.  
"He loved the Potter's, Louis. James was like a brother to him and he adored Lily. And Harry . . . if I didn't know any better I'd have guessed that boy to be his own son. They were that close. Nothing, and I mean nothing . . . nothing more shocked me than the day I learned of what he had done." She looked down darkly. "Sometimes I don't even believe it."  
"Do . . ." He stopped. "D-Do you think he could be innocent?"  
Mrs. Tonks didn't look up but she did answer him, tone soft. "It's been over ten years. If he was innocent, you'd think they'd have found out by now." She gripped the side of the table. "But . . . but I would like to think he is because . . . because the Sirius I knew never would have done something like that."

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Tonks." He whispered, his words no doubt carrying over to her though. She looked up at him and smiled.  
"Call me Andromeda, Louis." He nodded, a bit sad. He turned back to the counter, fingering the cloth.

"Louis?" Andromeda spoke up from behind him. He didn't turn around or even look up but he did shift a little to let her know he was listening. "Why ask about Sirius?"  
He didn't reply and she didn't push him to either.

"Well," She spoke moments later "whoever you really are, for I know you're no muggleborn, not with the metamorphmagus ability, whatever you're real name, please know that whatever you're hiding . . . who you're hiding . . . there will still be people that support you. I know my daughter wouldn't abandoned you and looking at the way those boys out there look at you, I doubt they would either."  
"Thank you, Andromeda." He whispered right before leaving the room, back into the loud sea that was the twins and Tonks.

* * *

 _I need you to get that thing we discussed to me as soon as possible. Also, take a look at the files I attached. You'll know what I need from them._

 _HJP_

Tying the letter to Hedwig, he watched as she disappeared into the night, her speck getting smaller and smaller until she was ultimately gone. Casting a glance to Ron's sleeping form, Louis climbed into his bed with a sigh and hugged himself around Natasha, breathing in her scent. He had no idea where Sanguini had ventured off to but he was sure the snake was fine.  
"Just you and me, girl." He told the tiger. "Just you and me."

 **A/N: I enjoyed writing this. I hope you guys liked it too.**

 **Please review :)**


	7. Chapter 7

Thanks Llew444 for betaing this chapter :)

Enjoy guys.

 **Chapter 7**

"Wasn't Draco supposed to be spending the summer with Tonks?" Louis questioned as he lounged on the couch with Fred and George. They had arrived back at the Burrow less than an hour ago from the Tonks'. The rest of the Weasleys were in their rooms, entertaining themselves. Currently, Louis and George sat up against the arms of the couch, facing each other, with Fred's head in Louis's lap and Fred's feet in George's.

Fred hummed as Louis carded his fingers through red locks. "Yeah. The Malfoys contested it though. Said Draco was going home, where he belonged. Ministry wasn't going to hand his case over when his parents wanted him were they? And Gringotts had already done their part so they couldn't care less."

Louis frowned. "Do they do that often? Ignore the child's wishes in favor of who their parents are?"  
George snorted unkindly. "Whoever has the money, yeah, and really, who can beat the Malfoys?"

"Isn't there like a child protective agency or something?"  
George shrugged and Fred answered. "Some Um-lady is in charge of the placement of magical children. Dad says it's a small department. Few employees. Apparently it's backed up all the time and so often kids just get lost in the system and forgotten about."  
Louis thought of baby Harry then. Harry, who had just lost both of his parents, who was alone in this world. Harry, who had a godfather and an uncle and a list of potential guardians, only to have them all ignored and pushed aside in favor of Petunia Dursley. He wondered if the Longbottoms would be any different if they had been pulled from their hideout to look after him. They could have been pulled immediately and so they wouldn't have been home when the Lestranges came calling. Then there was also Sirius and Remus to consider. Remus, who was persecuted for something he couldn't control, a piece of him he hated and resented and pushed so far away from himself. Sirius, who was wrongly convicted just because people found it so easy to believe the worst of him due to his family's history. They didn't look at Sirius Black and see a killer and a traitor; they looked at his family and thought "how could he not be?".

Louis clenched his fist tightly and Fred hissed. He smoothed it over in apology, mumbling one as he did so. "That's fucked up."  
George looked over in surprise, a little shocked at the boy's bluntness.

The twin nodded. "Yeah. Yeah it is."  
 _I have to change that._ Louis thought. _I have to change all of this. There can't be anymore Harry Potters. Anymore Nevilles. Anymore Louises._

* * *

That upcoming weekend found Louis and the Weasleys at Diagon Alley.

"Alright, Arthur, Ginny, and I will go and get Ginny's stuff. Percy, you go with Ron. Fred, George- stick with Louis. Be careful boys and remember, we're meeting at Flourish and Blotts around lunchtime so don't be late."

"Yes mum." A chorus of male voices sounded before they broke apart. Ginny excitedly dragged her parents away while Ron grumbled as he followed a straight backed Percy. Fred and George turned a grinned down at Louis.

"Wanna go to Knockturn Alley?"  
"Mum never let's us go."  
Louis nodded, feigning a perplexed outlook. "Probably because it's full of . . . interesting characters and shops."

Fred snorted. "Is that a yay or nay, Boy Wonder?"  
"It's a yes." They grinned.

Knockturn Alley was a twisted collection of darkened turns and little branches of roads. Shops of various sizes and purposes were tucked away neatly, cloaked in hidden layers. There weren't many signs to be seen.

George tugged at his cloak, making sure the hoods were still covering their hair. Louis had wandlessly charmed their hair to look brown and their faces slightly different, Fred with no freckles and George with a thinner nose, but he had made them wear the hoods up anyway. Just in case. As for himself, he had pretended to charm his features into a taller, more athletic boy. He aimed for something stereotypically Russian. He wore his hood as well, even though he knew his 'charm' wouldn't fall.

"How are we supposed to know what is what?" George complained.

Louis peeked up, tipping his chin up as well. "There's Borgin and Burkes. Antiques mostly." What Louis didn't say, as he nodded toward the smartly tucked store, was that it was also a front for illegally imported objects and trades.

Fred scrunched up his face. "What are antiques going to do for us?"  
Louis raised an eyebrow. "You have a better idea?"  
Fred grumbled as George smirked. "He's got ya there, Freddie."  
Walking calmly forward, with the twins trailing behind him closely, he headed into Borgin's, shoulders squared confidently. No one greeted them upon their entrance and after casting a quick glance around, Louis saw no one either.

As the twins headed towards a glass cabinet containing various little objects, Louis hung more around the front of the shop. Spotting a dagger, he headed over. Examining it, he tested its weight. When he had first met Shira, they had hosted a grand number of lessons on many subjects. While his focus had mainly been the wandless magic and pureblood customs and politics, she had made sure he was passable in weaponry. His favorite had been the knives and daggers, as they allowed for close quarter, quick attacks. They were personal and stealthy. Quiet. He had a pair of dark gray daggers Shira had gifted him in the beginning. He kept them on his body usually but he figured it was about time he bought a new one for himself.

Hearing something clatter, he spun around quickly and caught the twins scrambling to pick something up. Looking guilty as he stared, eyes wide, they whispered loud sorrys. Before he could rebuck them though the bell above the door jingled again and they quickly scrambled. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the twins ducking behind a large chest that rested far in the back of the shop, away from his visual. Spotting a tall, thin cabinet, he slipped inside, being careful to leave the door cracked.

To Louis's surprise, the people that entered the shop were none other than Lucius and Draco Malfoy. Puzzled, he stared at his friend, who was walking in his father's shadow, head bowed. A purple bruise, which someone had horribly attempted to cover, was on the boy's cheekbone. Frown deepening, he looked towards Senior Malfoy, who impatiently tapped his cane on the counter. Moments later, a hunched man that Louis assumed was Mr. Borgin came in from the back, pushing a curtain aside in his hurry. Louis caught sight of several boxes in the back of the shop with interesting labels on them.

Lucius Malfoy casted a glance at Draco, who quickly wandered away, examining the objects near the front. Holding his breath, Louis watched his friend for a minute before turning to once more watch the father.

Louis had read about Lucius Malfoy, had studied him. Oh had he ever. In his quest to take Voldemort down, Louis had started in several places, one of which was the man's Death Eaters. He had taken names, looked over old newspaper articles and case notes. Lucius Malfoy had been all over the place. The Malfoy family had always been seen as a "traditional pureblood family" that was "proud and strong and highly respected". They were rich assholes, as far as Louis had seen. They paid everything off. All of those Death Eater raids where witnesses thought they saw Lucius Malfoy were just conveniently mistaken later. All sorts of bills that shouldn't have passed that did. Positions filled by men, friends of Malfoy's, men that were under qualified and uneducated. Donations made to places, like St. Mungo's, where victims of the First War were being treated; medical costs paid by a "generous Lord Malfoy". It was disgusting what money could get you and, casting a quick glance at Draco, he supposed it really did win everything. Even freedom.

For now.

Watching dutifully as Senior Malfoy (Louis wouldn't give him the respect the title of Lord gave the man) tried to get Mr. Borgin to buy his no doubt illegal and dark artifacts, Louis watched as Mr. Borgin paled dramatically and shoved whatever it was he was looking at far away from him, back towards the blonde man. He looked sickly.

When Mr. Borgin began to apologize, offering excuses as to why he wouldn't take it to an incensed Malfoy, Louis was draw away when he heard Draco bump into the table closest to him. Breath hitching in fear of being caught, he inched a little deeper into the cabinet as the young boy came closer, peering at the cabinet.

Draco reached a hand out to hold onto the handle, no doubt going to look inside the cabinet. Louis took another step back.

"Draco!" Lucius snapped, clamping a hand on his son's shoulder and harshly yanking him back. "Come!"  
Watching the Malfoy's leave the shop and Borgin once more disappearing into the back, Louis breathed out a sigh of relief and stepped out of the cabinet, knees wobbly. Fred and George ran up to him and the three of them quickly vacated the store.

Dragging him into a darkened corner of the alley, Fred and George breathed heavily against the stone, backs pressed to it, shoulders hitting each other's. Louis looked at them both, eyes flitting between the two of them.

"Did you see him too?" He asked, voice quiet.

George nodded, closing his eyes tightly.

"Why was he there? With him?" Fred asked, voice thin.

"Maybe he didn't have a choice? You know he hates him."  
"Sure didn't look like it." Fred grumbled bitterly.

Swallowing thickly, Louis wasn't sure whether he agreed or not and perhaps that was what made everything so much harder in the end.

* * *

They met up with the rest of the Weasleys not long after their excursion into Knockturn Alley. Mrs. Weasley immediately shoved books into their arms upon noticing them.

"There you three are! You missed him!"  
George frowned. "Who?"  
"Gilderoy Lockhart!" Mrs. Weasley gasped, a dreamy smile on her face. Fred scowled at his mom in disgust.

Ron rolled his eyes. "Apparently the bimbo is our defense professor this year."  
While the twins groaned and complained about the unfairness of it, cracking jokes about the man every few seconds, Mrs. Weasley scowled at them all, jumping to defend Lockhart's honor. Louis looked over at Percy, who was ignoring them all in favor of peering at the books on magical government. He turned to Ginny, who was standing in silence with Mr. Weasley, a bucket with two thin books in it.

"Wanna go look at some extra books with me?" He asked her. Ginny cast a glance at her dad, who shrugged easily enough, and nodded at him.

Walking off, they headed into a section he knew to be on plants and such.

"Herbology?" Ginny scowled.

He laughed. "You don't like plants?"  
"Fred doesn't either." She defended, crossing her arms across her chest.

He fought off another laugh. "I wasn't going to say anything."  
Peering down at the titles, he picked up a few and read the summaries and information passages, putting them back almost immediately. Spotting one of muggle gardening, he eagerly scooped it up and after reading the passage, happily tucked it under his arm.

As he read over a book on elemental magic, Ginny peered curiously over at him, a book on astronomy in her hands. "You like gardening?"  
Biting his lower lip, he shrugged. "I used to. I was pretty good at too apparently." He casted an amused smirk at her. "Better at it the muggle way, unfortunately."

Ginny smiled. "You could start a muggle garden. I'm sure the herbology kids would find it fascinating."  
He chuckled. "Neville definitely would so yeah. Probably."  
She walked over to him and looked over his shoulder. "Elemental magic?" She raised an eyebrow.

He tried not to look obvious as he answered. "I came across it in my research last year. Saw the book and figured why not."  
"That's rare magic. Very rare." Ginny said seriously, looking at him head on. Their gazes did not drift.

"You don't say."  
"The elements are very temperamental. Not easy to control. Elemental magic is . . . risky. Dangerous."  
"I'll keep that in mind."  
"Good."

They stared a little longer, gazes burning, before Louis looked away, snapping the book close and pairing it with the other one he decided to buy. "You want that?" He gestured at the book in her hands. She looked down and made a surprise face as if she had forgotten it was in her hands.

"Oh um-"  
He took it from her. "Call it a birthday present. Let's go."

"But my birthday is in a few weeks!" She protested, following him.

"Early present then." He smirked.

As they rounded the corner, Ginny bumped into someone and went to apologize, only for the person to stop her.

"Well, well, well." The man drawled. "Red hair. Freckles. Hand me down clothes. You must be a Weasley." He peered down his nose at her. "Ginevra, yes?"  
Ginny took a step back, bumping into Louis's shoulder, who had lingered behind.

Louis stared coldly at the Senior Malfoy. Draco hung behind his father, staring resolutely at the floor.

Ginny tipped her chin up stubbornly. "It's Ginny actually. Not that that has anything to do with you." She quipped. Mr. Malfoy scowled at her.

"Why you little-"  
"What do you want, Lord Malfoy?" Louis interrupted, stepping forward and putting himself between the Malfoy patriarch and Ginny, who would no doubt slap him for doing so later.

Mr. Malfoy tilted his head curiously at Louis. "And you are?"  
"Louis Thompson. Pleasure to make your acquaintance, sir." He held his hand out, giving the Malfoy a challenging look. Louis already felt victorious as the man stared down at it distastefully.

"Thompson, you say? I've never heard that surname before."  
"You wouldn't have, sir. I'm a muggleborn." He purposely kept his hand up, hanging firmly between them.

Mr. Malfoy's hand jerked quickly toward his chest as he stared at Louis's in disgust. "Ah. I see." He drawled. "I'm afraid I don't shake hands with . . . . Well. Wouldn't want to get my hands so . . . filthy, now would we?" He smiled thinly at Louis.

Louis grinned brightly. "Of course not, sir." He finally let his hands drop.

Ginny stepped forward angrily, face red. "You can't just-!"

A hand wrapped around Louis's and Ginny's shoulders.

"Problem?" Mr. Weasley asked sickeningly sweet as his eyes burned holes into Mr. Malfoy.

Mr. Malfoy looked down at Ginny again. He reached into her bucket and grabbed

one of her books, twisting it over in his hands. "Not at all Arthur. Just getting to know Draco's peers." He mockingly frowned at the secondhand book in his hand before letting it drop around his hip. His other hand reached into his coat, oddly enough. "They sure don't pay you well for the hours you work, do they Arthur?"  
"They pay me enough, Lucius." Mr. Weasley grit out, trying to smile politely at the man but failing.

Mr. Malfoy cast a glance a Ginny, staring disdainfully at her shoes. "I'm sure." He looked at Louis and smirked. "But with the company you keep I suppose money isn't really an issue, hmm?" He tossed the book back into Ginny's bucket.

Mr. Weasley's jaw clenched.

While the two men began to trade insults, each escalating further, Louis checked on Ginny, who was furious, and then on Draco, who was watching everything silently. He raised an eyebrow at his friend. Draco swallowed thickly before turning away. Louis frowned.

A sudden lunge forward made Louis look up as he saw Mr. Weasley's fist collide

With Mr. Malfoy's jaw. The two tumbled for a bit before others pulled them apart. Louis could hear Mrs. Weasley yelling in the background and the twins and Ron's cheering happily, egging their dad on to do it again.

"You're going to regret that, Weasley!" Malfoy Senior sneered as he wiped the blood from his lip, which Mr. Weasley must have split. The man quickly left. Draco lingered for a little bit, casting a glance at them.

"You going to say anything?" Louis asked him, slightly angry.

Draco stared at him for a second before turning away, following his father out.

While Mrs. Weasley told off a somewhat pleased but guilty Mr. Weasley and the

Boys chatted happily about the fight, Louis hug by a silently fuming Ginny and gripped her hand, giving it a squeeze before releasing it, all the while thinking of the boy he considered a friend. The boy that just left them all.

 **A/N: Sorry for the long wait guys! I finally got a beta so it just took a bit to get everything sorted out. I've already started writing the next chapter so hopefully it'll be out soon.**

 **Thanks for reading and please review! This story is honestly the only good thing I have going for me right now haha.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

 _He lingered at the corner, ignoring the constant feeling of raindrops plopping onto his skin, clinging to it in itchy layers._

 _He had his hands stuffed inside the pockets of his coat, a hat placed atop his head. For the first time since his arrival in Paris, he was Harry. Just Harry with the boy's messy black hair and green eyes. Not a single person knew this child here. They didn't know his story. They didn't know that he was the same boy that stole a bunch of buns here a week ago. They didn't know that the little rat they chased off every now and then was in fact him, just with a different skin and hair shade. It was simply exhilarating, to walk the streets, knowing he was the deviant they all scorned and looked out for, and be ignored and smiled at, simply just because he looked slightly different. Simply just because he was finally himself for once._

 _The reason he was Harry today though was for something entirely new as well. Today he was going to meet Remus Lupin._

 _Harry had arranged for Lupin to meet him at a cafe in Paris, a decently well known one in fact. They'd have plenty of witnesses should things go hairy. Pun intended._

 _Lupin was scheduled to arrive in a couple of minutes, should he be a punctual individual, which Harry had been given the impression that the man was indeed. They had decided to meet in France, as Harry had told Lupin it would be much easier for him to come then it would be for Harry to gain permission and a way to Britain himself. Thankfully, the man had agreed to meet him here. Harry supposed the man's curiosity was too much for him to ignore. It's not every day that the child of one of your dead best friend's waltzed back into your life. Lupin had everything to lose but just as much to gain as Harry did. They both needed this. They both wanted it to work out._

 _Catching sight of a man that was walking towards the cafe, intent and hesitation clear on his face, Harry stood a little straighter, wondering if this was Remus._

 _The man had sandy blonde hair and wore grey pants. He walked purposefully and quickly, as if he were afraid something was following him, only to stop very suddenly, a look of fear and doubt clouding his face. Harry could see from his position that the man was wringing his hands nervously. Silently, Harry walked up behind him._

" _Nervous?" He asked the man, making sure to check that his hat was securely on his head first. He also straightened his sunglasses._

 _The man, who Harry was more than positive was Remus as he looked exactly like the boy in the yearbook pictures, only older and more exhausted, turned, surprised._

" _I, eh, um . . . yeah." He answered lamely, looking down at his shoes a bit guiltily before looking back at Harry._

 _Harry applied a smirk to his face. "New date?"  
The man chuckled bitterly. "Afraid not. No this is . . . more important."  
_" _I see." Harry hummed, secretly pleased by that response as it clearly meant Remus saw him as important, more than girls even, which, from what Harry had gathered, was heavily important to many men. "What's making you so nervous?"  
The man gave him a look, eyes narrowed in thought before he seemingly shrugged off his resistance and replied. "I haven't seen them in several years. Guess I'm just afraid they won't like the person I've become."  
Harry gave him a smile. "Well you seem alright to me so far."  
The man chuckled. "Thanks."  
Harry leaned into the man's space slightly, as if he were sharing a secret. "My opinion is the only one that really matters anyway."_

 _The man, who was definitely Remus, gave him an amused smirk. "Is that so?"_

 _Harry grinned, taking off his hat and tilting his head forward enough that the sunglasses slipped down his nose. "I'd say so, yeah, Remus."  
Remus practically choked on the breath he was taking, a hand coming up to clutch at his chest. "H-Harry?!"  
Running a hand through his hair, Harry grinned impishly at the man, a look he had mastered thanks to the twins, who were definitely rubbing off of him. "That's me."  
_" _Merlin," Remus gasped, eyes wide as he took in the boy before him. "You . . . you look just like James. It's just so . . ." He tilted his head skyward, eyes suspiciously wet. "Merlin . . . ."_

 _Harry, concerned, nudged the man with his elbow, hands still in his coat pockets. "Hey I know I'm gorgeous but nothing worth crying over."_

 _That startled a laugh out of Remus. "You are so much like James too." This seemed to be what brought Remus back to the moment as he managed to compose himself, offering Harry a handshake and a tender smile. "It's so good to see you, Harry. Remus Lupin. Obviously."  
Surprising both of them, Harry grasped the man's hand and yanked him into a hug. "None of that business crap, Lupin. You're practically family." He gripped the man's waist tightly, relishing in the feel of hesitant hands being placed around his shoulders. Remus was oddly warm. It was very nice against the slight chill of the summer day._

 _Pulling back, Harry grinned. "Ready to go in?"  
Remus looked over at the door and shrugged a shoulder, looking a bit guilty and reserved. "Sure."_

 _They were quickly seated and ordered quickly, neither saying much before their food was back. Sandwiches for the both of them. Harry was pleased to note that they had practically ordered the exact same thing, just with different cheeses._

" _So, Harry, you are indeed Harry Potter yes?" Remus asked, an eyebrow raised at the question that didn't really need to be asked at this point but was still kind of necessary. In response, Harry shifted his bangs a little, revealing the lightning bolt scar that couldn't be imitated. Satisfied, Remus nodded with a strange expression on his face._

" _Well . . . I don't know where to begin." The older man expressed, clearly a little embarrassed. Harry offered a smile. His lips were stretching a lot today. He wasn't used to it. At all._

" _Just wherever you want is good with me, Remus."  
The man bit on his lips, drawing them inward before releasing them. "How are you? A-Are you happy?"  
Harry was surprised. He had expected the man to want answers. To what to know where he had been, who he was with. Those kinds of things. But Remus didn't want any of those. He just wanted to know if Harry was . . . happy?_

 _Was he?_

 _He shrugged. "I've been doing okay. Better than before. I just finished my first year."  
Remus frowned. "I read in the Prophet that you didn't show up at Hogwarts."  
He gave him a conspiratorial grin. "That's a story for a more . . . private time."  
Giving him a flat, judging stare, Remus nodded slowly. "Fair enough. Have you been in France this whole time then?"  
_" _For a few years now."  
_ " _I-" Remus began before halting, seeming to consider himself.  
_ " _Go ahead." The boy encouraged._

 _Armed with permission, Remus pressed forward. "I was told you went into your Aunt's custody. Petunia's."  
_ " _That's correct."  
_ " _But you're not with her anymore." it wasn't a question and Harry knew it._

" _Nope."  
_ " _So who are you with?" The man asked._

 _Harry just grinned. Remus nodded, a disappointed look on his face but a smile tugging at his lips._

" _Story for another time?"  
Harry nodded. "Guess we'll just have to meet up again. Maybe . . . at Potter Manor?"_

 _Remus jerked, eyes wide with shock before he grinned, full of teeth. "I guess we will."_

* * *

Dark brown scales wrapped lazily around Louis's wrist, making the boy's eyes shift from his book to Sanguini.

They were seated in Ron's room, on the bed the Weasley's had loaned for him that summer. The twins were meeting up with Lee today, but Louis had declined to stay behind, wanting some time to himself from the excitement that was Fred and George. Ron and Ginny, having taken Natasha with them, were outside so he was guaranteed some quiet. He was taking advantage of this by reading a book he had on the animagus transformation. He was leaning more and more toward the decision to go ahead with it.

" _Can I help you?"_ He sassed the snake.

Sanguini flicked his tongue out, unimpressed. The snake continued to wrap itself around Louis's arm, sliding it's way to his shoulder, where he rested his head around the boy's collarbone.

" _Alright then."_ Louis said flatly, returning to the book.

Taking mental notes of the ingredients he would need, Louis lost himself in explanations and potions and transfigurations, studying diagrams and statistics. Scowling at the bit on the mandrake leaf, he unconsciously stuck his tongue out.

" _Hatchling that is not how humans smell. Put it back in your mouth. Stupid brat."_ Sanguini hissed, sounding bored. Louis's eyes flicked down.

" _Shut up, Sanguini."_

" _Shut up, Sanguini."_ The snake mocked back. " _Such disrespect."_

Despite himself, Louis snorted. " _My apologies, my Lord."_

Sanguini bopped his head against Louis's collarbone. " _That's better."_

Rolling his eyes, Louis turned the page and went back to his reading.

" _I'm hungry."_ Sanguini complained after only a couple of minutes.

" _So go catch a mouse."_ Louis mumbled back, distracted.

Sanguini hissed his displeasure. " _You're the human. Fetch it for me."  
_ Louis looked up at that, jerking his head back in indignation. " _You're the one always proclaiming your superior hunting skills. Stop being so lazy."  
_ " _Haarrrrryyyyyyyyy."_ Sanguini whined, nudging into his collarbone some more, like a dog wanting cuddles.

Louis huffed. " _You'd die in the wilderness."_

" _Well lucky for us you picked me out of the woods so that's not much of a problem now is it?"_ sniped the snake.

Chuckling despite his annoyance, he closed his book and scooted off the bed. " _Alright fine then. Asshole."_

Sanguini just gave back a purr-like hiss.

Heading outside, he caught sight of Ron, who was chucking some rocks into a bucket. "Hey, Ron." He called.

The boy looked up and waved Louis over. "Hey, mate. How ya doin'?"  
Louis gave a polite smile. "Do you know where I could find a mouse? Sanguini needs a snack, I think. Figured I'd fetch him one for once." He lifted his arm that housed the snake. Ron gave him a slightly disgusted look, as he didn't really like snakes, but nodded.

"There's probably some out by Dad's shed. He likes to see them running around."  
"Thanks."  
Turning on his heel, he walked towards the shed, passing by Ginny who was laughing heartily as she rolled around the dirt with Natasha. Catching sight of a few mice, he placed Sanguini on the ground, in a small patch of dandelions. Slowly, he headed towards the tiny creatures and gently picked one up, cupping his hands. Returning to his friend, he left Sanguini to his business, not really wanting to watch. He ignored the struggle and Sanguini's mumblings of wanting more. If he wanted more he could get them himself.

"Oi! Thompson!" He heard on his way back inside. Turning, he saw Ginny running towards him. "Wanna swim in the pond with me and Nat?"  
He chewed his bottom lip. "I don't have a suit."

Ginny snorted. "Just wear some shorts." He gave her a look. "Really? Why do you not own shorts?"  
"It's colder here than France!" He defended himself, crossing his arms over his chest.

Ginny snorted. "Oh you poor baby," she teased. "Take a pair from Fred and George's room then. They'll be a bit long but should fit well enough around the waist."  
He shifted on his feet. "I don't know, Gin . . . "

She nudged his shoulder roughly. "Stop being such a girl. Get the shorts." With that, Ginny took off into the house, Natasha trailing clumsily behind her in her excitement.

Sighing in defeat, Louis did as he was told, changing the shorts in the twin's room, not fearing that anyone would walk in on him. Catching a glimpse of himself in a mirror propped up against the wall corner, he headed over and stood in front of it, tossing his shirt over his head.

His chest was pale and skinny, his ribs still partially visible. He had been making a lot of progress and while he was definitely less underweight than he had been two months ago, he was still in the danger zone. Feeling self-conscious, he made his chest firmer, fatter, until it was more healthy looking. Not as scrawny or pale. Nothing noticeable or noteworthy though. He had to be realistic. Avoiding the knowing gaze of his reflection, he shrugged his t-shirt back on and left his shoes in the room. He was going swimming.

 **A/N: Short sweet chapter today. Wanted something simple and nice. Focus on the little things. We got a little on Remus.**

 **Hope you guys are doing great. I'm sorry for the wait. I sent this to my beta reader awhile ago but they never replied and it's been awhile. I guess I don;t have a beta reader anymore? Idk. It's okay though I'll just give you guys what I've got and hope its enough. Chapter 9 will be up soon today too as it's done. 10 will follow shortly.**

 **Please review :)**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

 **A/N: Warning for self harm with a minor character in this chapter. Nothing graphic, more of an implication than anything.**

 _The dirt clung against his skin as he walked, barefoot, across it. The inherently clean smell of the forest filled his nose. Fresh leaves and green grass and rushing water came to mind as he walked over a particularly obvious stick. He held one of those in his hands, a stick. It scratched against the ground, clawing at it, and whacked against thin tree trunks when he passed them and waved it around. Above him, he could see a small number of birds flying by, disappearing before he could even truly focus on them._

 _Eventually, he made it to the river: his source for coming there. Water rushed slowly across rocks, smacking against the bank and up towards the area he stood on, splashing drops onto his feet, making the muddy. He dug his toes into the dirt, relishing in the squish that followed. Aunt Petunia wouldn't be pleased but for that one second, however long it lasted, he didn't care._

" _Harry." A voice whispered, one he knew well. Looking up, he spotted a little redheaded girl across the river from him, sitting at the opposite bank. She had doe like eyes that peered at him innocently. A small smile, gentle and fleeting, was being directed at him._

 _He waved hello at her._

 _She stood up, the skirt of her yellow dress rising above her knees, covered in mud. Her feet, equally as barefoot as his, were caked dirty and her knees were bruised. A soft grey cardigan was tied around her waist unevenly, the left arm sleeve dangling and brushing against the thin grass below her._

 _She waved an arm at him._

 _He shook his head._

" _Harry!" She yelled, grinning. She waved her arm again._

" _I can't." He gestured to the river. "It's too big."  
She shook her head, her messy braid smacking against her shoulder as she did so. "Jump."_

 _Looking at the water and at how fast it was going, he shook his head again, taking a step back as he did so._

" _I can't!" He repeated, looking over at her pleadingly as her grin disappeared, replaced by a frown. She tilted her head at him, brow furrowed._

" _Harry?" She asked._

 _He frowned. "What?"  
Her eyes shifted, unfocusing. Suddenly snapping to attention she yelled again, sharply. "Harry!"  
_" _What?"  
She tugged at her dress, fingers wringing it as she gripped at the threads in a fist. "Harry!" She screamed, rushing forward so that she was hovering along the very edge of the river bank, toes touching nothing but air._

" _Stop!" He yelled worriedly. "You'll fall in."  
_ " _Harry!" She yelled again, not really looking at him much to his confusion. "Harry!"  
Looking over his shoulder and around, he saw that there was no one else there. Who was she talking to?_

" _Harry!" She screamed out again, inching just a bit forward._

 _Not really thinking, he jerked forward heavily, arm out. "Wait!"_

 _Body seizing forward toward water, no ground to catch him as he really did move too far ahead, too suddenly, he let out a shriek, breath quickening._

 _As he felt the river grab ahold of him, darkness surrounding him almost immediately, he could hear her scream one more time._

" _HARRY!"_

* * *

Closing the back door softly behind him, Louis walked outside, a broom in hand. He had bought last year's Nimbus 2000 (right as they were releasing this year's so it was cheaper) and had Genevieve store it in his trunk for days like today. Walking deep into the Weasley's yard, right into the center and decently far away from the Burrow's main building, he swung a leg over the shaft and rose silently into the air. Flying a couple of laps around to get a feel for it, he relished in the feeling of the wind pressing against his cheeks, his body going against it.

He didn't know how long he had been having the dreams of the little girl, just that she had been with him for several years. A piece of him. She didn't grow or age with him, nor did she ever leave. She was always there, lurking in his subconscious, sometimes coming out to play like the monster under his bed, sometimes not. He felt both relief and grief at seeing her again. Her dreams always ended with him waking up in cold sweat after all.

Leaning forward slowly to rest his chest against the broom, Louis lingered in the air like a kite, just gliding along. Cicadas hummed around him, providing excellent commentary for that night. The stars were stretched out on the blanket above him, patterns stitched in effortlessly, stories to read. He eyed the moon, feeling oddly pensive.

He moved to take another lap around, loving the feeling of flying.

* * *

After quietly going back inside and putting his broom away, Louis decided to make a quick stop in the bathroom. He wanted to splash his face a little, knowing it helped calm him down. When he got to the bathroom however, he noticed the light was on. Frowning a little, he checked his watch, having had put on the old thing again. It was almost 3 am. He knocked softly.

"Hello?" He said quietly, not wanting to disturb anyone else in the house. The twins room was, afterall, just a couple of feet from the bathroom.

He heard a muttered curse from the other side of the door and after a minute of rushed movement, the door swung open. To his surprise, it was Percy. The teen had his hair in complete disarray, so unlike his normal state, and was straightening his sleep shirt.

He didn't meet his eyes when he shuffled in the doorway in front of Louis.

"Sorry, Louis." The boy said, looking extremely guilty.

"What are you doing up so late?" Louis asked curiously an, if he were honest, worriedly. "It's almost 3."  
Percy shrugged, feigning casualty. "Couldn't sleep."  
Percy tugged at the sleeve on his arm, drawing Louis's attention. Noticing something, Louis frowned deepened.

"Percy?"  
"Hmm?" The boy hummed.

"Are you okay?"  
Percy looked up at that, squinting at him. "Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"  
"Because you have cuts all around your forearm." whispered Louis, eyes watching the boy.

Percy's eyes widened and looked at him, clearly in panic. "No, I-uh . . . "  
"Percy." Louis interrupted. "You don't have to explain yourself to me. But if you do want to talk about it, I'll be downstairs. If not today, just find me. I promise to listen." With that, Louis headed down, turning away to give the boy his privacy. While he knew that maybe he hadn't given the best reaction, he also didn't think demanding answers from the boy wise. He wanted to tell somebody but this was also Percy's secret and telling someone might bring unwanted attention on the boy.

Sitting on the sofa, Louis waited and sure enough, several minutes later, Percy padded into the room and perched himself next to him. He remained silent.

"You can't tell anyone." said Percy. "They'll think I'm unstable. That I can't handle myself. I'll never get in the Ministry then."

Frowning, he nodded. As awful as it sounded, Louis knew this to be a legitimate worry. Attitude towards mental illnesses and similar behaviors associated with them weren't acknowledged well in the muggle world and he imagined that with as behind as the wizarding world was, things weren't better here. "I promise." The _for now_ went unspoken. Percy had to know that if things got way out of control Louis would tell. He would have to.

"How long?" He asked.

"Couple of months." Percy whispered. "Around March I guess."  
"That's when OWL prep started, yes?" Louis asked. Percy nodded.

"At first, it was just . . . stress. I wasn't handling everything well. I was a prefect and my grades still had to be perfect and when the OWL's came along I just crumbled. I knew everyone thought I'd be perfect on those too. I didn't want to disappoint everyone. Truth is, Louis, I'm not as spectacular at everything as everyone seems to think. I follow the rules, sure, even the ones I hate. Sometimes, though, it's hard. Like when I have to handle detention for the wrong student while the real jerk gets off. Snape tends to do that a lot. Seeing kids get bullied but not really being able to do anything because "kids will be kids", especially the boys. What's being a prefect if I can't protect them? If I can't help? Then there's the grades. I'm terrible at charms. Absolutely terrible. But I get an O every year and at this point, everyone just thinks I'm the best. Do you know how many hours I spend studying on just that one subject? Then there's OWL's. I'm sure I don't need to explain that. I just . . . it's hard." Percy confessed.

"You don't have to be perfect, Perc. No one expects you to be."

Percy shook his head. "You're wrong. My parents do, especially mum. You should've seen how proud she was when I got prefect. Kept going on and on about how I'd be Head Boy and all that. Not that it's new to her of course. Bill's been it before. Charlie was Quidditch Captain. It's nothing spectacular."  
"Sure it is." Louis argued. "Just because Bill has been a prefect, and even Head Boy, doesn't make your accomplishment any less. She's proud of you and knows you'll do great. Even if you don't get Head Boy next year, that doesn't mean she'll be any less proud."  
"She'll be disappointed though. As she should be. There's no reason I shouldn't be. It's so hard getting perfect grades all the time and with my yearmates, they have to be perfect. They're all so smart. I'm always studying, always practicing, always asking for more. I don't know when the last time I got a decent amount of sleep was. Even now I'm working hard to get a position with the Ministry, even just an internship."

Percy sighed. "Bill and Charlie are just so great. I have to be just as good if I want them to be proud. I'm not like any of my siblings. The twins are funny, always making people smile and laugh. Charlie is amazing at Quidditch and a dragon tamer for Merlin's sake. Bill's so smart and a curse breaker, not to mention just cool in general. Ron has tons of friends and a generally nice guy. Ginny is Ginny. Only girl of the house, youngest too, so spoiled as hell but she's also wicked clever and friendly. You're hooked on her. I'm just me. Nerdy, boring Percy. I have few actual friends and I'm not athletic and I definitely don't have any exciting plans for the future. What's there to like?"  
Louis reached over and gave Percy's shoulder a squeeze. "Percy. Just because you're different then your siblings doesn't mean you're any less amazing. You super smart and clearly dedicated. I've never met anyone with as strong as a work ethic as you, not even Hermione. Don't minimize that. And you're parents love you. You could drop out and join the Witch Sisters as a lackie or sell cotton candy in muggle Australia and they'd still be proud of you, just as long as you're happy. There's nothing to prove. No one to beat. It's not a competition."  
"Easy for you to say. You have no parents." snapped Percy, who immediately looked ashamed for it. He opened his mouth to apologize but Louis stopped him.

"No, you're right. I don't. But I like to think that the only thing they'd want from me is to be happy and just by looking at your parents, I can tell that's all they want for you." Reaching for his left wrist, Louis brought it up and, concentrating, he pushed his magic out and willed it to wrap around the boy, seeping it into his skin. Together, they watched as the cuts were healed. Gaping, Percy looked at Louis in shock.

"I know what it's like to think you're never going to be enough for someone, Percy. To hate yourself for your own perceived failures but trust me when I say that destroying yourself isn't the way to do it. It took me many people and a trip to the hospital wing to realize that I mattered to people, not for what I could do or give them but because of who I was. Don't push this too far. Get some help. Even if it's not professional I'm sure you're parents could help you. There's many discrete options for you, ones that the Ministry would never need to know about. Trust me. Please."\

Percy didn't reply, just staring at Louis with his head now bowed, rubbing his hand over the now very healed skin. Nodding, he stuck his tongue out a little and stood up. Making his way to the staircase, Percy paused at the end of it.

"Thank you, Louis." The boy whispered.

"Anytime." He meant it too.

As Percy disappeared up the stairs, the steps not squeaking once unlike Louis's trips up, Louis relaxed into the couch cushions. Running a hand over his chest and placing his palm on his ribs, pausing, he thought over his words.

"I can do this." He whispered to himself before he too went back to bed.

* * *

The next day, Louis woke up and headed downstairs with Ron.

"I hope breakfast is ready." The other boy yawned. "I'm starving."  
Louis's stomach grumbled, to his surprise. "Same actually." He grinned.

Thankfully, breakfast was indeed ready for when they entered the dining/kitchen area, Mrs. Weasley was finishing setting the table. Mr. Weasley was currently sipping his coffee while he and Percy chatted quietly and Ginny was practically asleep, face almost in her eggs. Louis nudged her awake as he took the seat next to her. She jerked and almost fell face first onto the table. Glaring at him, she grumbled as she stabbed her eggs. He chuckled.

"Good morning boys. Help yourselves. I made pancakes."  
Extremely happy with this situation, Louis happily grabbed a few pancakes and dug in, pouring a lot of syrup onto them, much to Ron's surprise.

"Wow, mate. Sweet tooth?"  
Blushing a little, Louis nodded. "You wouldn't think so but yeah. I didn't get a lot of sweets growing up so when I do, I tend to go a bit overboard."  
Ron nodded. "I'll keep that in mind. Can never go bad with candy as a gift."  
Grinning, Louis agreed with the boy.

While Louis and Ron chatted away, the twins came down stairs, simultaneously looking like zombies and talking in excited whispers.

"I'm telling you, if we mix the alihotsy with the blind-worm's sting-"

"It'll explode." George deadpanned. "You know creature ingredients like that aren't suppose to be mixed-"  
"Not if we use some fire seeds and knotgrass!" argued Fred.

"Boys." interrupted Mrs. Weasley as the twins took their seats next to Louis and Ginny. "No discussion of potions at the table."  
"Yeah I have to deal with enough of that gibberish with Snape." scowled Ron as he shoveled another bite of toast into his mouth.

"Potions is a very important course, Ronald." Percy piped up. "You'd do well to learn and respect it. Why fluxweed-"  
And so Percy was on, educating Ron with potions, much to the boy's chagrin. Free from his attention, the twins rounded on Louis.

"Louis tell this imbecile that you can't mix blind-worm anything with alihotsy." George said, glaring at his twin in his annoyance.

Fred rolled his eyes. "Louis, please explain to him that if you counter it correctly that such a mixture will, in fact, work."

Trading a look with Ginny, Louis finished the bite of pancakes he was on and interrupted the twins, who had started to squabble again. "First of all, blind-worm should most definitely not be used if it can be avoided. It's quite temperamental."  
"Ha!" snubbed George. Fred frowned.

" _However_ ," he interrupted "if you wanted to use it, knotgrass would definitely help balance it out. Fire seeds probably wouldn't help neutralize it completely. I'd be more inclined to use maw or even salt. Maybe both with the right proportions."  
Instead of laughing victoriously at his twin like Louis expected him too, Fred turned to George, who was already looking at him, and the two seemed to have a conversation before rounding on Louis once more.

"Mate, I knew all those potion books we let you sneak would come in handy."  
"I think today's a work day for you, Boy Genius. Whatta ya say?"  
Shrugging and a bit excited at the idea of experimenting again with the twins, Louis agreed easily enough.

Beside him, Ginny groaned. "You're all such _nerds_."

Ron snorted, having had turned away from Percy sometime during Louis's explanation. "Says you, Gin. You're the one with the stacks of hex books."


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

 _January, 1987._

 _It was snowing._

 _Clumps of white fell from the sky in lazy breaths, covering the ground quickly and sticking. The snow fell heavily, coming out more as a thick white fog than anything. He could barely see the tree in the background from the sitting room window._

 _Harry turned away from the glass and hesitated. Taking a glance at his barely covered feet. Clad only in large blue socks that had a hole in them on the left one, Harry shrugged and opened the front door, standing on the stephold._

 _He stood there, body mostly still inside but his face cooling rapidly with the winter chill and forceful wind, and watched openly as it snowed. There was no rush, not here, not now. The Dursley's would be back soon and he knew that when they did he'd be sent to the cupboard. His chores weren't even finished and he knew he should be doing the dishes right now but for one second, one dangerous, carefully guarded, second, he wanted to watch it snow._

 _And so he did._

* * *

The days at the Burrow blended together quickly and before he knew it, it was time to board the train again. He would miss his time getting to freely experiment with the twins and bicker with Ron over inconsequential things. Louis had helped the twins with a lot of the potions they planned to make batches of jokes with as well as the algorithms and spellwork for certain charmed objects. He enjoyed the spell chains he had to weave for them and was quite pleased that, with the knowledge and little practice he had of arithmancy and runes, that he could do so with a little help from George. As for Ron, the boy was easy to talk to. Ron was friendly and had many things to talk about and, surprisingly, at least to Louis, knew quite a bit about strategy, which resulted in many chess games and discussions on Quidditch. Louis figured the boy would make a very good Captain, or even Coach one day if given the chance. Ron was also funny, in a way that was uniquely his own. He didn't use pranks like the twins or sarcasm like Ginny but just simply had a lot of jokes and stories to tell that he weaved together in ways that kept Louis entertained. The boy could also be a writer, if Louis thought about it. Perhaps he should mention that to the boy, as he noticed Ron didn't think he had many talents at all. He was a lot like Percy in that regard, though Louis was sure if he ever made the comparison to either of the boy's they would scowl heavily.

Louis would also miss the lightness between him and Percy. After his talk with the teen, Percy would seek him out more and while they usually just sat in silence, reading or just staring into space, he knew it helped Percy in some way. He figured it was the company, the ache of loneliness being fed. Louis would also encourage Percy's ideas whenever the boy spoke up, often over talking someone else so that the boy felt comfortable continuing. With questions timed correctly, Louis could often steer Percy into a direction that drew the others in, much to Percy's happiness. Returning to Hogwarts though meant that Percy returned to his books and friends. While this year probably wouldn't be as stressful as the one before, he still imagined that the boy would take on the weight of things more than he needed to and if Louis could, he would try to get the boy out a bit more. Have some fun maybe. He needed a distraction. He didn't think Percy would be too amenable though, since being at the Burrow was one thing but school was another.

He would miss Mr. and Mrs. Weasley as well. Mr. Weasley with his endless support and stories as well as puns. The man had terrible puns. Mr. Weasley who let him tinker in his shed with him, beating away at things with hammers and sliding bolts tight and turning screws with the screwdriver he grinned at when presenting it to him. All the while a muggle radio played in the background, a man's rich voice breaking through the old speakers quietly and yet loudly in the silence. Then there was Mrs. Weasley, who gave him a small bundle of cookies for the train and had folded his laundry into neat squares. Mrs. Weasley who made pancakes more after discovering how much he enjoyed them and didn't even hesitate to make hot chocolate for him in the mornings at breakfast after an off hand comment to Ron. Mrs. Weasley who didn't ask his about his nightmares and who gave him a stern look to remember to keep eating and listen to Madam Pomfrey and her rules. Mr and Mrs. Weasley who both insisted that he write to them. Thinking of Hedwig, he had happily agreed.

He would miss the ease he had with Ginny the most though. Surprisingly, the two of them had gotten along so easily together, both relishing in the friendship that the other offered them. He wasn't sure if Ginny would want to still be his friend after the summer though for they were now going to Hogwarts, Hogwarts where she could be sorted anywhere and would probably make friends of her own, children her own age or girls similar to her. She wouldn't need his companionship anymore. He wouldn't hold it against her. He knew he was a bit awkward. Brushing off the thought, he shrugged. Whatever happened he would deal with it,

A knock on Ron's bedroom door brought him out of his thoughts and Louis looked up to see the very person he was just thinking of standing in the open doorway,

"Gin. Hey. Done packing?"  
Ginny rolled her eyes and stepped in, plopping herself down next to his trunk on the bed. He folded another shirt and threw it on top.

"I finished everything up before breakfast. I'm pretty sure only Ron waited until the very last minute to pack everything." Indeed for Ron was currently running all over the house, panicking as he threw things into his bags. Fred and George and Louis were packing away their final things from last night and this morning and Percy had finished up right after breakfast. Seeing as they were all about to leave, Louis understood Ron's panic.

"So what brings you in here? Come to annoy me, I see." He winked at her, causing her to both blush and snort. He felt a grin work it's way on his face.

"I come baring gifts actually." She admitted sheepishly and only then did he notice the wrapped object in her hands.

Latching his trunk close, he arched a brow. "Oh?"  
Ginny nodded. "You never told me when your birthday was and I figured, well, can't forget my friend's birthday now can I?" She teased as she handed the thing over.

Looking down, he quietly told her that his birthday was December 31. "You didn't need to get me anything. Really."  
"Fred and George said they hadn't gotten you anything for it either when I asked them about it, as they too didn't know when it was, so shut it and take your gift, Thompson." She mock scowled at him.

Chuckling lightly, he agreed and unopened the gift, staring down at the dark journal in his hands.

"I found it with my things from Diagon Alley." Ginny said. "Dad must have accidentally bought it or something. I figured you could write magical theories in it. Make sure to credit my kindness when you win an award." She grinned.

Laughing, Louis thanked her and balled up the rest of the wrapping.

Soon after, Ginny dismissed herself, taking the wrapping with her to throw away, as she was going to go put her trunk in the car her father had rented for the day.

Opening up his trunk to place the diary in, he frowned as he looked at the book.

The name Tom Marvolo Riddle was written in neat, gold letter on it.

Frowning, he tossed it in and latched it closed. He too then left to put it in the car and help the twins with theirs.

* * *

"You guys want to get a compartment together?" Louis asked the twins as they navigated the train together, Ron and Ginny behind them as they had all just bid goodbye to the Weasley parents. Percy had already vanished to the prefects compartments.

"We need to find Lee actually," confessed Fred.

"He's been in Australia." George informed him.

Louis nodded. "Okay. Ron? Gin?"  
Ron shrugged. "I'm gonna find Dean and Seamus."  
Apparently, Ron saw them over Fred's shoulder for he pushed through them all and waved, yelling Dean's name as he did so. Rubbing his shoulder, Louis turned to Ginny, who nodded.

"I want to find Luna first though."  
"That's fine." He smiled at her. He was looking forward to meeting the girl.

Soon, the twins split off, having had spotted Lee in a compartment already. Taking Ginny's bag, he left the girl to her looking and slid into a compartment. Letting Natasha hop onto the seats, he scratched behind her ear and watched as Sanguini slid down his sleeve and curled up in her fur, no doubt loving the body heat the massive cat gave off. He had slipped her scarf off, not seeing the need once they were on the train. Sitting down and placing Ginny's bag on the rack above his head, he took his seat and slipped his dad's sketch book out of his own bag as well as a transfiguration theory book Percy had loaned him. He wanted to compare notes.

For the next hour, long after the train had started forward and the noise outside had calmed down a little, one could find Louis in that position, flipping through his dad's notes and drawings and looking back at the text before him. James Potter had been onto something and surprisingly, had been looking into the connection in transfiguration and metamorphagy. He had wondered if there was a genetic leading in transfiguration and if an overload of this resulted in children who had the ability. There was already some science behind the belief that individuals particularly gifted in subjects had it partially due to a biological leading. There wasn't enough research in this to make the kinds of connections James had been though. Clearly, his dad hadn't been satisfied with it as the notes suggested there was experiments and research done in this direction by the man and an unnamed partner. Louis wondered if there was a lab book for this somewhere and if the name of this partner could be found too.

The sound of the compartment door being slid open drew Louis's attention and he looked up to see Ginny slipping in with a girl that had a pale face and dirty blonde hair following behind her.

"Hey, Louis." She greeted him, taking the seat next to Natasha, immediately snuggling up next to the very pleased cat. Luna sat closely next to her, the three barely all fitting on one bench. "Louis, this is Luna. Luna, Louis."  
Luna waved sluggishly at him, a smile ghosting her face. He smiled brightly at her in greeting.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Luna."

"You have a wrackspurt, did you know?" She told him as a hello.

Tilting his head curiously he smiled at her. "What's a wrackspurt?"  
"A winged creature." She leaned forward. "They hide in people's ears." She told him this as if sharing a secret. Her moon eyes peered widely into his own. "They make one quite fuzzy."  
"Should I be worried?" He asked her. "I don't think I've ever heard of them before."  
Luna nodded as if this made much sense to her. :They're very rare. And wrackspurts are okay to have as long as it's not an infestation."  
"You said I only had one, yes? I think I'll let it stay then."  
Luna grinned happily at him. Beside her, he saw Ginny with a matching expression.

"I like you." Luna declared.

"That's good because I like you too." He told her.

Louis returned to his book after that for a little bit while Ginny and Luna gave Natasha their attention. Natasha preened and purred loudly with their ministrations and coos.

"How was your summer Luna?" Ginny asked the girl. Louis tuned in to listen a little, eyes still on his book, attention split.

"Good. Daddy and I went traveling again."  
"Yeah? Where did you go?"  
"South America." Luna informed her, humming a little. "I brought back some shells. I'll give them to you later."  
"Thanks Luna." Ginny smiled. "Did you find any creatures?"  
The other girl shook her head negatively. "No. But we did meet a man that lived in a hut and played a guitar. He owned no pants."  
Ginny giggled. "At all?"  
Luna nodded seriously. "Oh yes. He found them confining."  
Louis piped up here. "I can't help but agree. I think the same thing about shoes." He scowled distastefully at the shoes he had kicked off not long after starting his books.

Ginny smirked. "Is that why you seemed to keep "losing" them?"  
He nodded, face stern. "They're annoying, Ginny. I would rather feel things, like the grass and water."  
Luna nodded at this. "I agree. Shoes are quite foolish. Babies aren't born with them after all. We're meant to use our feet. Not hide them."  
Ginny snorted. "Alright. Fair enough."  
While Luna and Louis chatted over their shared distaste of shoes, Ginny continued to snuggle with Natasha. She didn't seem to mind Sanguini, who eventually wrapped himself around her wrist. She didn't even blink.

A knock drew their attention and they looked over. Much to Louis's happiness, Neville popped his head in.

"Nev! Hey." He grinned.

Neville waved at him cheerfully. "Hi buddy. Saw you in when I was walking by. Figured I'd say hello before we got to the castle."  
"Come in, sit down. How have you been?"  
Beville came in and took the seat by Louis, telling him he couldn't stay very long as Hannah and Susan were waiting for him in their own compartment with Hermione.

"Good."  
"How was the trip to America? Learn anything at the herbology camp?" He vaguely remembered Neville talking about the trip last June.

Neville nodded excitedly. "Oh it was amazing, Louis. I learned a lot. Took lots of pictures. Even Gran was impressed. She even bought me a new plant! I brought home some seeds for the greenhouse at the Manor. I brought some things to show you guys later." Neville gushed, promising him. The pair chatted for a few minutes before Neville had to leave. Louis left a minute after him, excusing himself to go to the restroom.

After doing his business, he washed his hands and headed on out. On his way back though, he bumped into Draco, who was clearly heading to the restroom himself.

"Draco!" He gasped, sort of surprised to see the boy. He was thrown a little, remembering the trip to Knockturn Alley he and the twins had snuck on.

Draco looked up at him, eyes darting in panic a little before cooling his face into a neutral expression.

"Louis."  
"How are you?" He asked the boy gently, concerned for his friend. "I know you spent the summer with your parents."  
Looking briefly at his feet, Draco shrugged elegantly. "It was alright. Not as bad as I feared."  
"Really?" He asked, very surprised. "They didn't . . . ?" He trailed off, not quite knowing what to ask or say.

Draco looked up sharply. "Didn't what? They're my parents, Louis. They love me."  
He backed up, holding up his hands. "I didn't mean anything by it, Dray. I just know they weren't exactly supportive of you last year. At all."

Draco visibly deflated at that and while he didn't brush off what Louis said, he didn't acknowledge it either. "Yeah well. Whatever."  
A little unsure, Louis placed a hand on the Malfoy heir's shoulder. "Say, why don't you come into my compartment for a bit? I miss you. We could catch up. Talk a little. I met some new people I think you'll like. They're very nice."  
Draco seemed to sink in on himself and something came over him as he looked away from Louis entirely, a strange expression on his face that Louis couldn't identify, much to his confusion and annoyance. "I really shouldn't. I need to be getting back to my friends."  
"Oh." he said. "Oh. Yeah. Alright. Who are you sitting with? Did you find Neville and Hermione already then? The twins and Lee?"  
Draco shook his head and wouldn't meet Louis's' eyes as he replied. "No, um, I'm sitting with Crabbe and Flint and Higgs. Pucey too. You know, Slytherin's."  
Louis's back straightened. "Not just Slytherin's, Draco." He said flatly, struggling to keep his voice even and calm. "Death Eater's children."  
"Their father's were never convicted, Louis. You know that. Besides, they're my friends." defended Draco.  
"Since when?" He spat. He didn't like this. Not at all.

"Since before I even met you so back off." Draco snapped, taking a step forward into Louis's space. "You don't know them, Louis. I like them."  
"You like them or your dad does?" He growled, crowding Draco back. "What makes you think they care about you, Dray? That you can trust them? Where were they when you were sorted into Gryffindor last year? Oh that's right. Sending curses and calling you names. You shouldn't be with them, Draco. They're not your real friends and this isn't you. What are you doing?"  
"What I have to!" Draco nearly yelled, shocking him a bit. They both seemed to calm down a bit at that, Draco breathing heavily. "You don't know what it's like, Louis. What my father's like. I just . . . I just want him to be proud."  
"So what? You're pretending? Or is this who you really are?" Louis frowned at his friend. "What's so Gryffindor about being something you're not or, even worse, being just like those boys? Like Flint and his friends? Is that who you want to be, Dray?"  
"It's who my father expects me to be, Louis. I don't expect you to understand." Draco replied, sounding very tired all of a sudden.

"Why's that?" Louis said, a bit hurt. "Because I don't have anyone _to_ disappoint, is that it? Yeah I have it _so_ easy, Draco."

Draco didn't respond to that though, just shook his head and turned around, walking the way he came, restroom forgotten now.

The boy stopped to say one more thing though. "And Louis? I never wanted to be a Gryffindor so I don't care if this isn't very brave. I wasn't ever meant to be to begin with."  
"The Hat put you there for a reason, Dray. Maybe it's because being brave is exactly what you need to be." He practically whispered back, knowing the other heard him anyway. Draco walked off without a word. Downtrodden, Louis turned around and went back to the restroom. He wanted to be alone right now and his compartment wouldn't offer that.

 **A/N: There's a wrap for ten and we are finally on our way back to Hogwarts.**

 **So far we've got Weasley bonding. Love for Ginny and Luna. Cagey Draco. Shaky Percy. And the introduction of the diary. Wonder where this all leads? Hmm. . . . Tell me what you guys think so far and any hopes for the upcoming chapters! Love to hear from you guys. It keeps me going and lately I need some of that.**

 **Please review :)**


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Louis walked the halls of Hogwarts later that night, unseen thanks to the disillusionment spell he had casted on himself not long ago. It was well after the students had arrived in the castle and the first years had been sorted. Much to Louis's pleasure, Luna had been sorted into Ravenclaw and he had happily offered her a seat. Unsurprisingly, Ginny had joined her brothers at the Gryffindor table. After the Sorting, Louis had watched Roger Davies lead Luna and her fellow first years away and he himself had split off to head to the Common Room with Cho, who nitpicked his hair and asked about his meal plan and health. According to her, he needed to trim his hair. Perhaps she was right. He was getting a bit tired of his bangs falling in front of his eyes. He could just brush them back?

When the first years had made it the common room, it was a general agreement to head on up to bed shortly and so Cho had bid him goodbye and, after a brief acknowledgement to Luna, Louis had followed her up to his own room. He didn't make his initial password in parseltongue this year. He had realized early on the previous year that with no way in, the twins would lurk around his room, hence the changing of it to something in english. Muttering a quiet "Golden Eagle" to it, he had slipped inside, taken note of his luggage, and fallen asleep, faintly feeling Natasha curl up against his back. He had no clue where Sanguini had hidden himself and he knew Hedwig would be in the Owlery, so there was no pressing issues to worry about.

He had woken up from dreams not long after though, surprised to hear a soft pecking on the glass window. When he had opened it, a familiar owl fluttered in, dropped off it's mail, and left quickly, not waiting for a reply. Not that he would need one yet.

It was this letter that had brought Louis to walking the halls quietly, lost in thought as he planned his next move. He knew what was coming, what he would have to do, but that didn't mean he was ready for it.

Making his way up the stairs of the tower, he leaned against the window sill and carefully extracted the letter from his breast pocket, unfolding it.

 _Tiger,_

 _You've upped the stakes. To an impossible level at that._

 _Lucky for you, I don't believe in impossible tasks. I'll get it done. It'll take awhile though._

 _Give me time. You owe me that._

 _With love,_

 _Magpie_

So they were using codenames now. Smart. Jaw clenched, he carefully folded the letter back up and tucked it away. He'd send it off to the Manor in the morning, trusting Gen to keep it safe in his records. Best to keep everything together where it could be kept a secret, where it was guarded. If anyone heard word of what he was doing then he would be a goner. Prison wouldn't even begin to cover it.

Staring at the grounds of Hogwarts, the Quidditch pitch far in the distance and the lake nestled neatly before him with the Forbidden Forest glaring up at where he stood, he couldn't doubt himself. There was no way this wouldn't be worth it.

* * *

"Scoot." Roger said the next morning, placing a hand on Louis's shoulder. Noiselessly, Louis did as the older boy asked and made room for him on the bench. Across from them, Luna and Cho sat, their breakfast plates before them. Cho currently had Louis's in her hand and was shuffling scrambled eggs on it. She didn't trust him to make his own, much to his annoyance. He knew that once she realized he was indeed back on track and taking care of himself that she would lay off. She was just worried and he couldn't blame her since she was the one that had been with him when the disaster of last year had made him fall unconscious and be sent to the Hospital Wing. Didn't lessen his current annoyance though.

"Luna right?" Roger asked the blonde first year as he grabbed some fruit, tossing a flirty grin her way. Luna smiled, looking a bit far off but all together happy. "How you liking Hogwarts so far?"  
"There are plenty of nargles so pretty good." Luna replied cheerily as she spread some jam on a biscuit.

"What are nargles?" Cho asked innocently as she passed Louis his plate, the latter rolling his eyes. Thus began an explanation of nargles by Luna to a wide eyed Cho that Louis was pretty sure was going to last the remaining minutes of breakfast. He turned to Roger instead, having had heard about nargles already that morning by Luna when walking through the hall with her.

"I heard you got Quidditch Captain. Congratulations."  
Roger grinned and clapped a hand on Louis's shoulder. "Thanks, mate. I'm super excited for it. Studied strategies all summer, more than I did for herbology that's for sure." He laughed. "You thinking about joining this year?"  
Louis hummed. "I don't know. Seeker sounds nice but that's Cho's position and I wouldn't want to steal it from her. Besides, I have enough going on."  
Roger shrugged. "Well if you want to tryout I won't stop you. I've seen you flying at night when you think no one's out. You're damn good."

"Thanks." He smiled.

"So second year. Any plans for world domination yet?" The elder boy grinned. Louis barely refrained from rolling his eyes once more.

"If that was my goal, we both know I'd be in Slytherin."  
Roger snorted. "You're already perfect for that house. Don't see how you didn't get in there, to be honest." While Louis was sort of surprised by this admission, he really shouldn't have been. Louis openly practiced in the Common Room things that everyone knew had nothing to do with any of his classes. He also had performed many pranks, both openly and well under the radar. Being friends with the Weasley twins, and not at all hiding it, probably didn't help Roger's opinion. Not that it was wrong.

Louis pretended to act nonchalant as he replied. "The Hat thought I would be annoyed by the Slytherin's. Said our temperaments wouldn't work." It was a lie but Roger didn't know that. Louis had hexed and cursed at more than one student that annoyed him. Sure enough, the fifth year nodded glumly.

"True." He shoved a muffin in his mouth but he continued to talk around it. "Remember when you jinxed Mantlo?" The boy laughed and Louis wasn't far behind him. That had been one of his best performances.

Stuffing a last bite of eggs into his mouth as the tower bell chimed, Louis stood up and bid goodbye to his fellow Ravenclaws before making his way out of the Great Hall before anyone could even blink. Shrugging his backpack onto his shoulders, he chewed quickly and made haste to Transfiguration.

* * *

 _Dear Harry,  
_ _I'm sorry I wasn't able to bid you goodbye before you went off to school. Which I still don't know where you attend, might I add.  
_ _I've attached your gift with Hermes, as I'm sure you've noticed. And before you start ranting about how I shouldn't have gotten you anything, need I remind you that I feel I have eleven years to make up for? Let me spoil you, cub.  
_ _I'm currently staying at the Manor until I can find another job. I was right about the University letting me off. Part time doesn't really suit them anymore and considering they had better offers, I can't blame them. Unfortunately, this leaves me with no money to pay off the rent and thus my stay here seems a bit more than the temporary bit I thought it would be. Don't worry. I'll try to be out of your hair soon. I don't want to take advantage of your hospitality anymore than I already have. I know you said you didn't mind me staying, at all, but I'm afraid that I do, indeed, mind. Please understand that. To use the muggle cliche, it's not you. It's me.  
_ _Bad and untimely jokes aside, I was hoping to get to meet up with you soon. Before the Yule break would be appreciated but as I have no idea if that'll work with your school, I can make do. What do you say?  
_ _Love,  
_ _Remus_

Smiling softly, Louis tucked the letter back into it's envelope and scratched Hedwig, earning himself a pleased trill.  
"Who's that from, Louis?" Hermione asked. He and the girl were currently in one of the abandoned classrooms, along with Draco and the twins. The twins were currently bent over a potion that Louis had just looked over for them but demanded they make themselves. Draco was in the corner about three feet away, his potions book in his lap and a scowl on his face. Dark circles were beginning to form under his eyes and if Louis were honest, he was a bit concerned for his friend but didn't know what to say or do. Draco and he weren't exactly on speaking terms. It had taken a determined Hermione to get the boy to come and even then he wasn't very chatty. Hermione herself was sitting next to Louis, their charm books and some quills and parchment before them as they worked on an essay Flitwick had already assigned that week.

He put the envelope in the inside pocket of his robe and ran his fingers over Hedwig's feathers once more. "Gringotts. Just a bill statement and vault summary I requested when I first got here. They sure were fast." He felt bad for lying but what else could he say. _Oh just a letter from my dead dad's old best friend. Nothing new._  
"Goblins don't fuck around." Muttered Fred as he tossed in some flexweed. The twins ducked with identical yelps when the potion burst with a thick, gray cloud. Louis rolled his eyes.

"You put too much in." He said, annoyed with their lack of attention to his instructions.

"No shit." snapped George as he sat up, rubbing at a smoke smear on his cheek.

Hermione turned to Louis. "Anyway. What charm did you choose for your essay?"  
"Severing Charm. It's on the syllabus for the year." He said as he picked his quill back up from the floor.

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Yeah, late in the year. I picked the Disarming Charm but it seems pretty simple to me. Not much use in a fight besides the obvious. Even then, it's not like it would actually be productive against an advanced fighter."  
Louis disagreed. "I don't know. Advanced fighters, like aurors and such, would be expecting more difficult spells. The disarming charm would throw them off. They'd never see it coming _because_ it's so easy."

Hermione pondered that, looking thoughtful. "Maybe." was all she settled with, in the end.

A pecking noise caught their attention and the pair looked up and over at the window, where a gray, stern looking falcon was perched at the sill. A muttered curse sounded from the corner and Draco walked over to open the window. The bird let him grab his letter before flying off, not at all waiting for a response. Louis could have sworn he saw the creature _sneer_ at them. Lucius Malfoy _would_ have a bird like that wouldn't he? For there was no doubt that's exactly whose bird that was.

Draco unceremoniously ripped the letter open and devoured its contents. Louis watched as the boy gradually tensed up, his back straightening and shoulders squaring. When the boy was finished, he balled it up and shoved it in his pocket.

"Dray? You okay?" Fred spoke up from the potion the twins had obviously currently abandoned.

The younger Malfoy's jaw visibly clenched. "I'm fine. I've gotta go."  
Before anyone could stop him, the Gryffindor left the room, the door swinging widely and shutting loudly behind him. Louis and Hermione flinched.

They sat in tense silence for a minute before George sighed loudly. "Does he seem a bit, I don't know, off to any of you?"  
"I saw him this morning." said Hermione slowly. "I waved hello and everything. He wouldn't even look at me."  
"We," said Fred, waving his hand between himself, George, and Louis "saw him in Knockturn Alley with his dad. They were definitely up to something."  
"Selling illegal contraband if I had to guess." muttered George under his breath.

"I bumped into him on the train." Louis confessed, looking down. "He's been hanging out with the Slytherin's lately. Not the good kind either."  
" _What?!"_ George hissed, eyes narrowing.

"What's he thinking?" demanded Fred, his anger clearly rising as it had been since they left the Burrow.

"You don't think anything happened at his home do you?" asked Hermione, looking a bit fearful at the answer. "With his parents I mean."  
Louis shook his head, hoping to reassure her. "He said nothing like that did. I believe him, Herms. I'd know if he was lying." And he would. Louis knew probably better than anyone exactly what an abused kid looked like. He knew the signs, even the one's they tried to hide so desperately. "I know his dad's been putting some pressure on him. I'm not quite sure how or why though."

"Why won't he talk to us?" Hermione said sadly. "We're his friends. We can help him!"  
Louis shook his head. "He doesn't want help. He thinks he could this on his own. I . . . . I think he's trying to please everyone. Us and his father. Everyone but himself, that is."  
George ran a hand over his eyes tiredly. "So what do we do?"  
Fred snorted. "For now? Is there anything we can do?"

No one had the answer to that.

For the next couple of weeks, Draco was distant. Louis and the others saw him in the halls, more often than not surrounded by older Slytherin students. Crabbe seemed to have abandoned him early, instead hanging out with the Hufflepuff Goyle like he so often did. Whenever Louis turned to look at the blonde, Flint would be there, sending a glare right at him. The message was clear. Do Not Approach. Draco was being kept guarded for whatever reason and Louis didn't like it. He couldn't help his friend this way, not all the way over here.

But Draco didn't seem to want his help. The boy seemed at peace with the new company he kept. Sure he wasn't smiling and laughing around them but the Slytherin's were so often distant and cold anyway that Louis assumed the boy was just adopting the famous Malfoy Mask he had heard about where Lucius was concerned. Besides, Draco wasn't hurting and snarling at people either. Though he was right there with the very boy that were doing so, remaining silent as he turned a blind eye.

For now, Louis let the boy have his space. If this was something Draco had to do, who was he to dissuade him? Until his friend crossed a line, Louis could wait. Watching.

The others weren't pleased by this. At all. They had caught Neville up to speed and once all of their efforts to speak to the Gryffindor turned Slytherin apparently had failed, they had all taken a step back. Neville began hanging out with the Hufflepuffs more, looking over at Draco constantly with concerned eyes, worried for his friend but unclear as to how to help.

Hermione invested herself in her studies like she so often did, no doubt blaming herself for this apparent failure on her part. The girl's nose was always in a book, her notes nearby. Padma and, somewhat surprisingly, Pansy had taken it upon themselves to watch over the girl when she was secluding herself like this. Louis made sure to express his gratitude. Lord knows when Hermione was like this she needed level heads that those two could supply better than the people Hermione kept most of her company with. He was grateful they were friends.

The twins, unlike both Neville and Hermione, seemed to expand outward, rather than inward in reply to Draco's apparent betrayal. And that was exactly how the twins took it. As a betrayal. To them, Draco had abandoned them for the enemy and so they did what they did best. They caused mischief. Louis had scarcely seen the two for if they weren't in the middle of working on or setting up a prank, they were in detention for said prank.

As for Louis, well. He wrote in the diary Ginny had gifted him. With all the time he now found to himself, there wasn't much else to do and the journal was therapeutic. He made sure to write down his thoughts and the events of the day every single day after dinner. Lately, he had even taken to doing so before Lunch. It wasn't much, but he found it helped. He made a mental note to thank Ginny for the gift once more.

 **A/N: Kind of shorter than usual and a bit sloppy to be honest but I always hate writing the parts when I first get back to Hogwarts. Tom Riddle is about to pop up though so I'm excited. Thanks for reading guys.**

 **Please review.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Louis rolled his eyes. "He is the most ignorant man I have ever had the dishonor of meeting, Hermione."  
Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "You're just not giving him a chance! Did you even read his books, Louis?!"  
"Unfortunately." Louis, Fred, and George all muttered in unison, much to Hermione's annoyance and their happiness. The three boys shared a look of mutual pain and sympathy between them.

"Hermione," said Louis haltingly "I read all of his books, every last one he assigned, and not one of them taught me anything actually useful. In fact, the only thing I learned is that that man has to be a fraud."  
Hermione huffed but didn't reply, much to his surprise. Spotting Padma and Pansy, who she was sure were going to be likeminded individuals in her opinion of Lockhart, Hermione bid them goodbye and walked over to the other to Ravenclaw girls.  
Somewhat relieved and feeling a bit guilty for that, Louis turned to the twins.

"Want to work on the Map?"  
They eagerly agreed and the three of them walked to the abandoned classroom they had claimed as theirs last year. Smiling fondly in the entrance, he could practically envision Tonks roughhousing with Fred while he and George shuffled with notes and stacks of books.

Setting his backpack along with Fred and George's on a sheet covered section of desks, Louis slumped into a torn up worn chair. The twins sat in similar chairs next to him. Louis could remember the day he had convinced a house elf to gift them the chairs from the storage rooms. It's not like anyone was using them.

George held the Marauder's Map in his hand and seeing it, Louis bit back a grin. That Map had caused him a lot of worry, considering he was at Hogwarts without anyone actually knowing who he really was. The Map could very easily give him away and that alone was a major reason he had insisted on helping the twins with their study and replication of it. He wanted to know if the map revealed him as Louis Thompson or Harry Potter. Much to his relief and slight confusion, it had the neat script of Louis written by his feet, mingled together with Fred and George's, and ever since making that discovery, he had been trying to figure out why. Was the Map faulty? Surely a piece of magic as profound and advanced as it wouldn't? But then again, it could very well have kinks in the foundation.

"Alright," said Fred, gesturing for George to open the Map and spread it out on the large desk before them (as they had surrounded the chairs by the old, mahogany professor's desk) "where to start? Louis, you got the notes?"  
Rolling his eyes at the apparent lack of faith, Louis pulled a book out from his cloak and set it down, opening it up and clicking the muggle pen in his hand ready.

George raised an eyebrow. "How is it that you always seem to have things in your inside pockets?"  
Louis shrugged. "Because I do?"  
George nodded. "Fair enough."  
Fred cleared his throat. "I don't have the books on me so we can't get much done today but . . . " he trailed off.

"That's okay." Louis said as he opened his note book to the page they were currently on. "We can just examine the spellwork."  
George, it seemed, had already begun this while Fred was offering his excuses, as he was chanting some algorithms under his breath and waving his wand around, picking at the magic in the parchment but not unraveling it.

"Ya know, I wonder where they got the names from." Fred said suddenly, completely unrelated to their current train of action.

George hummed. "What?" He poked at the magic again and Louis quickly caught the loose strand that the ginger had accidentally unraveled. He sent a glare at the sheepish boy, who mumbled an apology. It would not do well to disrupt the spellwork that had been expertly weaved. Louis briefly wondered which of the Marauder's had laid the spells.

"Wormtail, Moony, Padfoot, and Prongs. Bit odd don't you think?" questioned Fred. "I was just wondering where they got them from."  
Louis smiled secretly. "I'm sure there are stories behind them."

Fred snorted. "No doubt about that."

"Maybe it was a reference to something."  
"Like what?" Fred asked incredulously.

"Animagus forms." George interrupted suddenly, startling his twin.

"Animagus's?"  
"Makes sense don't it?" mumbled George as he nodded at Louis to take over the prodding. The boy did so happily, enjoying this kind of work.

"Prongs. Deer. Buck. Ya know, like the prongs on their antlers." George continued. Fred snorted even louder this time.

"Okay wise guy, explain the others."  
"Well," hummed George. "Padfoot was probably a dog. Maybe a cat but I'm thinking dog. Because they have little pads on the bottom of their paws. Their feet."

Fred snickered but then sobered up, seeming to now be taking his brother seriously. Louis grinned behind his wand.

"Wormtail had to be a rat. Thin little worm of a tail?" George and Fred nodded at each other.

"What about Moony?" asked Fred, peering up curiously. George frowned.

"A wolf." said George decisively.

"Or a werewolf." Louis offered casually.

"A werewolf?" The twins looked at him. He paused his work to nod at them, setting his wand down for a minute.

"I mean, come on. These guys had to be students when they were here. Professor's wouldn't have the time or energy or even want to make a map like this but kids? Particularly kids that are causing mischief?" He gestured to the map that they all knew was opened by the special "I solemnly swear that I up to no good" and closed with "mischief managed". "Why would they be animagi? Moony could be a regular wolf, yeah, but I personally wouldn't name the guy Moony if that was the case. A werewolf though? Howls at the moon., Moony. Plus, there's your perfect reason for becoming animagi since when in animal form, the lycarthapy virus can't be transferred. They could help their friend."  
The twins gaped at him. "You got all that from the Map?"  
He shrugged. "Ravenclaw, remember?"  
What the twins didn't know was that he knew the Marauders. Hell, he was their heir. Prongs had been his dad and he was currently talking to Moony. Sure, Remus hadn't confirmed or even remotely said anything to even suggest that he was a werewolf but Louis had noticed the signs. He had noticed the scars and the bags under the eyes and how Remus always grabbed the copper silverware over the silver and that the man never seemed to stay the night on the full moon, even though he practically lived there this summer. It would also explain the man's poverty and difficulty finding a job since creatures, especially werewolves and vampires, were required to register with the Ministry their status upon discovery. The stigma alone would be enough to keep Remus out of employment, the wizarding world racked with fear and stereotypes unjustly given.

"We should become animagi." Fred said.

"What?" George laughed humorously, breathless with sudden shock.

"I mean, we're making our own Map." He gestured to Louis's notebook. "We're troublemakers, managing a lot of Mischief." He gestured to the Map. "Why not follow our namesakes? We may not have a resident werewolf but that's no excuse not to do it."  
Louis pondered this. Being an animagus had many advantages. If he was unregistered, it would be a secret skill that would no doubt come in handy with Voldemort and the war. Coupled with the metamorphmagi, he could be the perfect spy in almost any situation. He'd learn a lot. Not to mention the regular battle effectiveness the skill provided. Enhanced reflexes for sure, probably a boost in his transfiguration ability, which was already stellar. Then, there was the sentimental value behind it. His father was an animagus, one of the youngest to do so, it would almost be like remembering him for Louis to do this. Plus, if he managed to become an animagus at an earlier age . . . . Well, Louis wasn't saying bragging rights but . . . bragging rights.

"I'm down." He said

George shook his head. "You two are crazy. Let's do it."

Sharing a grin, the three boys could feel history being made in that small little, cramped classroom. It almost made the dust worth it.

* * *

Louis softly closed his bedroom door behind him and tossed his bag onto his bed, making sure he didn't actually hit Natasha with it on accident. The tiger was currently snoozing on the giant dog cushion he had bought for her though and was safely out of the way. He still had no idea where Sanguini currently was but he wasn't that worried. The snake was an independent creature after all, one that valued his freedom and alone time. Louis wasn't going to restrict him with demands. Sanguini wasn't his pet but rather his friend and as such, Louis had no control of the guy's actions.

He sat at his desk and pulled the black journal Ginny had gifted him from the second drawer, sliding it closed and swiping up a quill at the last minute. He reached across the wooden table top for his jar of ink.

He had been writing in the journal for an increasing amount of time since it had been given to him and Louis now looked forward to the time he got to sit down and unwind by writing about his thoughts and his day. It was soothing. Therapeutic. He would sit and write for what felt (and very well could be) hours. He wrote all about his classes and his friends and his current projects. Despite the freedom he felt with it though he neglected mentioning his research on Voldemort and his parents. In case the diary was looked at by one of his nosy friends, he didn't want them to stumble upon his identity by accident. It was too much of a risk, even if he did kind of want to get it off his chest. The secret was a heavy weight, one he wasn't sure he wanted the burden of.

Opening the cover of the journal, he pressed the freshly dipped quill onto the page and carefully wrote the date. Without checking it, he wrote. He wrote about his classes that day, Defense and Herbology and Potions, and about Hermione and her odd obsession with Lockhart and the oddity that was the female attraction to airy men and about how Pansy had snorted at lunch so hard she almost choked on her peas and about how he had visited Hagrid yesterday afternoon with Neville and enjoyed tea with the man and about Fred and George and the weird way they were mismatched socks but matched at the same time (Fred would wear one half of a pair of say his left foot and George would wear the other half on his right foot) and he even mentioned the Map, though very briefly and without going into detail. He didn't check his spelling or anything as he went though, like he did with his essays and notes, for he knew that the words would have disappeared.

Louis had noticed many things odd about the diary. For one, he sensed magic from it. Magic heavier than normal enchantments placed on such things. Those were there of course but something else was too. He supposed it had something to do with how everything seemed to disappear into the pages after he wrote it. No matter how many detection and revealing spells he cast would make the words reappear either. That was the second thing he had noticed, the disappearing. Louis couldn't help but think the book was capable of more than he was seeing. Perhaps over time it would make sense.

Signing the end of his entry with a loopy L and a tight S, he smiled and closed the journal before placing it back in the drawer. He already felt lighter and, oddly enough, tired. Walking over to his bed, he slumped forward and curled his legs against his bag before falling asleep, his face pressed into his pillow and his arms underneath his stomach.

 **A/N: Thank you for reading. I hope you liked this chapter. I did.**

 **Has anyone watched Perks of Being a Wallflower and/or read the book? It's probably my favorite of all time. I'm currently listening to Asleep by the Smiths. I always listen to the same song on loop as I write haha.**

 **Please review :)**


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

"Louis, are you sure you're alright? You don't look too well." Hermione commented one morning at breakfast. She had decided to sit by him that morning, much to his surprise and pleasure. Luna sat across from them, humming.

"I'm fine." He said as he shifted his bacon around the plate. To be honest, he really wasn't doing all that great. He had noticed a decline in energy lately. Sure, it was typical of him to take naps every now and then, and to even be a bit down, but it wasn't like that. He was just exhausted, all the time. It seemed like he only had energy to go to classes, finish his homework, write in the diary, and then slump onto his bed for hours on end. Even that was a struggle, for he dragged his feet everywhere he went, his body feeling heavy and lax. A weight. It wasn't just that though. He also had really intense headaches and migraines, even nausea. He suspected those might be a side effect of his lack of eating though. It wasn't like he wasn't hungry though, for he was, and he wasn't purposely denying himself either, it just seemed to always cause sharp stomach pains when he did eat. He would throw up most of it later, dry heaving by the end of it in his dimly lit bathroom. His body was aching but Hermione didn't need to know that.

The dark circles under his eyes didn't help though, nor did his sunken cheeks.

"Fine, he says." she snorted into her orange juice. Grumbling darkly, he took a gulp of his coffee, wincing as the hot sludge went down his throat.

 _At least he could still something,_ he thought bitterly.

"It's the wrackspurts." Luna piped up. Louis looked up to be met with an intense stare. Moonlight eyes locked with his, unrelenting. "He has a lot of them. You should take care of them. Soon."  
Their eyes were still locked when Hermione butted in.

"Wrackspurts aren't real, Luna." She snapped irritably. Louis had noticed that Hermione didn't really like the first year Ravenclaw girl. She took her too literally and refused to think about what Luna was _actually_ saying. But that was just how Hermione was, he supposed.

"Daddy says they are." The blonde responded simply, as if that was that and Louis figured it kind of was.

Hermione moaned, annoyed. "Of course he does! _Merlin_." she cursed under her breath.

"How do you get rid of Wrackspurts?" Louis asked before the girls could go on. Hermione looked like she was going to flip a table any second now. She was so easily riled up.

Luna buttered her toast. "You don't really get rid of them. Not like that. But you can sort of keep them away. You should come see the threastals with me."  
"Threastals?" Hermione asked.

Cho, who was next to Luna, looked at the blonde with surprise and concern. "Luna, you can see threastals?"  
"Oh yes. They are quite pretty. Very unique." She hummed, taking a large bite out of her toast.

"But," Cho frowned, mouth opening and closing.

"What are thestrals?" Hermione asked, eyes curiously wide.

"Er," Cho side eyed Luna as she turned to face Hermione. "Well, they're a magical creature. Many cultures note them as bad omens but that's probably not true. It's just their mysterious and dark nature that makes people think that."  
"What do you mean?"  
"Well. You can only see a thestral if you've seen death."  
"What does _that_ mean?" Hermione repeated, eyes narrowed. "Do you have to have an almost death experience, where you've almost died? Do you have to see someone die in front of you, like literally, or just the process of decay, like with cancer? Do you-"  
"Hermione." He interrupted. "Stop it."  
The brunette twisted in her seat to stare at him incredulously. "Wha-?"  
He nodded towards Luna subtly and Hermione's mouth shut with an audible snap. Her cheeks warmed as she mumbled an apology. Luna seemed oblivious.

"You have to see their death. Literally." The girl said casually. She looked up at Louis again. "Would you like to see them?" There was a challenge in her eyes, one he was sure neither Hermione nor Cho caught. Louis, however, was not unaware and swallowed thickly. A flash of green went over his eyes.

"But Louis hasn't-"  
"I'd love to, Luna." He interrupted firmly. The girl smiled happily and stood up.

"Great! I'll get you later!" With that, she skipped off.

"What?!" Hermione gasped, eyes looking from Luna retreating back to Louis's stern face. "How have you . . .? _What?!_ "

He stood up. "Excuse me." He tossed his napkin onto the table, his uneaten plate forgotten as he exited the Hall.

* * *

` He ran into Hermione again later on that day. He saw her in the library, seated with the twins and Neville. They were whispering among each other but when Fred noticed Louis approaching them, he elbowed Hermione, who immediately quieted. The four fell in silence as they watched him approach.

He set his charms book on the table. "Did I interrupt anything?"  
Hermione cast a glance at Neville and shook her head. "No. Not at all."  
Mouth thinned, he pulled out a chair and sat in it, letting his bookbag fall ungracefully to the floor. Madam Pince shushed him.

He ignored her, miffed with his friends. He didn't care to not be rude right now and judging by the look Hermione sent him over her own books, she didn't appreciate that. Whatever.

"What are we talking about?" He asked them innocently.

"Potions!" Neville blurted out loudly. Madam Pince glared at their table and the hufflepuff wilted.

"What about them?"  
George eyed his twin as he slowly replied. "Just the debatable properties surrounding some. We were asking Neville about the herbology properties to see if we could stabilize some of them. Hermione was arguing some of our choices."  
"Because they were idiotic." She replied, seeming to have caught onto the thread being thrown at her. Louis resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"Interesting. Anything I can help with?"  
"Nah," said George "I'm tired of talking about plants and shit. We'll go over with it you later, Lu."

Louis averted his eyes. "Alright then."

Fred smacked his palm against the table suddenly, causing another curse from Madam Pince that they all chose to ignore. "Fuck this, it's stupid. Louis. Hermione told us you can see thestrals. Want to talk about it?"  
He could feel his face freeze and firm up as he put up some walls. "Not really."  
"That's fine. Moving on. Neville, tell me about that purple flower thing you found this summer."  
Neville looked at Louis before stuttering out his reply to George.

Hermione shifted awkwardly in her seat, eyeing Louis nervously, and George glared at the table top. He eyed them before speaking up.

"Well, this is awkward." Louis said, interrupting Neville, who blushed. "I'll see you guys later." He roughly grabbed his bag and stomped out of the library, once more ignoring the glare Madam Pince sent his way. He felt a bit of satisfaction as the library door slammed shut behind him. It also made him feel an ache in his chest though and he wondered if that's what betrayal felt like.

* * *

 _-I mean, there was no reason she should have shared that. It wasn't hers to share and she had no right. I should have known better than to share something personal in front of her and Cho. Hermione just never knows when to leave enough alone. It's like personal boundaries don't exist for her and that the concept of secrets is foreign. I don't go around sharing all the things she's told me so why does she think she can do that to me?_

 _If I wanted the others to know about it I would tell them._

Louis fumed as he rapidly scratched his quill against the diary, furiously writing the words onto the page. He could feel his anger pouring off of him, stinking up the room. He was sure his face was red and he wondered if his appearance was slipping as his concentration was most definitely not on keeping it up whatsoever. He did have the bad habit of letting it slip when extremely emotional, which he seemed to be right now.

He was furious at Hermione for telling the others about the thestrals. While he wasn't upset that they knew, he was upset that Hermione had gone behind his back to tell them all about such a personal thing. She didn't understand what was at stake. While he knew the danger behind voicing such an obvious link to his real persona, he had figured that he could keep it contain with only having Hermione knowing but now the others knew as well. If they asked and pushed too much, he wasn't sure he could keep up the lies. Hopefully, with the way Fred was acting, none of them would approach him and demands answers.

Louis jerked back in shock as the words he had just written sunk into the page only to be _replaced_ with another set of handwriting not at all like Louis's own.

 _ **Your friends don't seem to be very good ones.**_

Biting his lip, Louis tried to come up with an explanation for the situation before him. He knew there were diaries that kept the things within them secret, usually being visible only to the magical signatures that had written them. He hadn't seen it too difficult to see this diary as one similar to that that just kept everything concealed, especially since he himself had appreciated it. But to have the diary write back? In a sense, it wasn't hard to imagine magic coming up with this. He knew there were companion journals, journals typically used to write to another person in a separate location, not at all unlike phone calls on paper. But what if one didn't have a companion or if they needed just a confidant? It could be therapeutic. Perhaps the diary was kind of like a self-help therapy book. Hesitantly, he went with this idea and pressed his quill back onto the page?

 _Who are you? How are you writing to me?_

 _ **I am the diary. My name is Tom. This was my diary many years ago. I imprinted my magical signature into it so that I could be a companion of sort for the next person that has this diary.**_

Louis frowned. _You can do that?_

 _ **You can.**_ The diary, Tom, wrote back. There was a pause before more ink appeared. _**It's a tricky bit of magic but I was always gifted in charms. My professor and I worked together to make it possible.**_

It was a bit skeptical but Louis could believe it. He had seen many things possible with magic. How hard was it to think that this too couldn't be true, couldn't be possible?  
 _So, since you're just a magical signature, you're just the diary's memory system?_

 _ **Basically, yes. Very clever of you, Louis.**_

He was a bit surprised to see his name but Louis knew he had written his own name down before. He had done it today actually, while he was writing his rant on Hermione.

 _You cannot share anything I write in here can you?_

 _ **The point of the diary was absolute privacy. That's why the words disappear once you write them. My signature stores up the imprint of them. The diary is meant to be therapeutic. Once you get it out, it is over. You start over, A blank page. I can write back as a sound board. Like a psychologist offering up advice. That's where I got the idea from anyway. Muggle psychology is interesting, don't you think?**_

 _You did all of this to mimic a therapy session? Wow. You must be super nice. How do you know about about muggle psychology though? Most wizards I've met don't know anything about muggles, much less a centered topic like psychology._

 _ **I grew up with muggles. I'm a halfblood so I got the best of both worlds. Psychology was just something prevalent on the muggle side. I've talked with therapists before and figured the wizarding world could use a system like that. As far as I know, they don't have a very positive outlook on mental health. I haven't heard of any psychiatrists or psychologists.**_

Louis thought for a minute before shaking his head. He was starting to get a headache. _Neither have I._

He hesitated for another moment, sensing that that line of conversation was over, before asking a question. _How does this work anyway? You seem to reply back to me as if you were actually in front of me. It's not stilted. I'd imagine it to be a bit more . . . robotic and flat in replies._

 _ **By storing my magical signature into the pages, which was quite painful and troublesome, might I add, I left an imprint of a sense. That leaves hints of my personality. In a way, it's like you are talking to my sixteen year old self. Everything that I was and knew at that age, you have with you.**_

Louis gaped at the diary. That kind of magic . . . was powerful. It was absurd to think about the kind of core this boy had had, to be able to stretch it enough that he willingly and knowingly left a piece of it within this book. _That . . . . That is bloody amazing. You did this at sixteen?!_

 _ **Well, I did say I had help from my professor.**_

 _Still,_ Louis wrote _it's brilliant._

 _ **I suppose it is, yes. Thank you, Louis.**_ Tom wrote back.

 _So, does this mean you are going to write back to me from now on?_ Louis drew the quill back as he thought about the reply he could get. He had received the diary, thinking it wasn't much more than your typical magical diary and had felt a sense of peace at being able to write in something that wouldn't judge him. It was cathartic. Relaxing.

 _ **Only if you want me to. I can remain silent, as I have been, or I can talk back to you. It's up to you, Louis, but if I'm being honest, you seem like you could use a friend right now. You're going through a difficult time and I only wish to help. That's what I'm meant for after all.**_

Louis thought about what Tom was saying. Yes, he supposed he was going through a difficult time. Draco wasn't speaking to any of them and seemed to be upset with him in particular. Hermione and Neville seemed to be pulling away from him too, having found friends in people closer to them. Tonks wasn't here anymore at all, which left him feeling like he couldn't breathe in his own skin. Plus there was the business he had going on with Fleur and Sirius Black and his newfound relationship with Remus. He was already feeling the pressure of it, the stress more than likely being the cause of his recent decrease in health.

He took a deep breath.

 _I think I would love your help actually, Tom._

 _ **Excellent Louis. You won't regret it.**_


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

"Please Madam Pomfrey? I promise to listen, I swear I will!"

Madam Pomfrey pursed her lips and hummed, disinterested. "Yes, you've said."

Louis rounded the bed to reach the other side, where Pomfrey was standing fiddling with a collection of glass bottles. "You should know better than anyone that I need to be nurtured."

Madam Pomfrey glared at him and he sheepishly shrugged his shoulders. For a minute, her gaze seemed to soften only to harden once more. She huffed and spun on her heel, taking a bottle with her to the bookshelves by her office. He followed her quickly, much to her apparent annoyance.

"Mr. Thompson. I am a very busy woman and while you most definitely need some kind of supervision, I am not a babysitter."  
"But you _are_ a healer." He pressed. "You are the best for the job."

Pomfrey narrowed her eyes at him. He widened his eyes innocently wide.

"You're going to keep asking aren't you?" She deadpanned.

He smiled toothily. "Professor Flitwick says I can be charmingly stubborn."

She snorted. "Charming isn't the word I'd have used."

He blinked. She sighed heavily. Louis wondered if perhaps she was taking notes from Hermione. Or maybe it was the other way around?

"It's a rare gift, Mr. Thompson, but don't think for a second that just because you have the ability to heal that it'll come easy for you. It takes a lot of practice and training. Years of it." Madam Pomfrey stared at him sternly, her tone serious. He nodded.

"I understand."

"Hmm." Pomfrey eyed him suspiciously. "I suppose I couldn't have a worst student. All of your teachers speak favorably of you. Fine. I'll teach you. Come to the infirmary every Friday after classes. Expect to stay for long intervals."

"Yes!" He pumped his fist in the air with a grin before remembering himself. He cleared his throat as he straightened up, shoving his hands behind his back. "I mean, thank you, Madam Pomfrey. You won't regret this."

She snappily slid her bottle onto the shelf. "I better not, Thompson." With that, she disappeared into her office but not before he swore that he had seen a smile.

He silently danced for a second before exiting the infirmary, grinning widely the whole time.

He was going to learn healing.

* * *

 _Dear Remus,_

 _I miss you. I hope that's not weird, since we haven't known each other very long, but you really are the closest thing to family I feel I have. I miss having my Uncle Moony around._

 _How is the job search going? Have you found any work in the muggle world? I know you've continued looking, despite my protests. If you need a hobby I'm sure Gen could help you out._

 _Things are going alright on my end. I've missed the pace of school and the concept of mindless dribble. Kidding. I did miss learning though. The library is full of information, the teachers . . . well, they try. My DADA professor in particular could use some work. The others just want me to stay on track but they don't seem to understand that I am far above it. I hope that doesn't come across as arrogant . . . ._

 _I miss my friends. My closest friends seemed to be drifting apart and considering I'm only a second year I find this concerning. We haven't even really hit puberty yet and there's already so much angst! The drama, Uncle. The drama. One of them graduated and is always busy. She was arguably the one I was closest to. My other friend seems to hate us all now. I'm not sure what we did wrong but I suspect it's his father. He doesn't like us at all. My other friends are drifting as a reaction. Finding new friends now that our own group seems awkward._

 _I haven't felt this lonely in a long time._

 _If that wasn't enough, I have been having trouble sleeping and eating again. I know you know that I had a meal plan this summer. I can't seem to keep anything down again. I don't understand it. Stress perhaps? I haven't talked to the school's healer yet about it but if it continues I'll have no choice. I'm surprised they haven't noticed it themselves yet, to be honest. They're very observant._

 _I've also been continuing the matters related to the Potter estate. Being a Lord is hard. Gringotts thinks they can fix the status of the stocks though, with my suggested plans. I've decided to invest in an upcoming broom company. I'll tell you all about it at Christmas. I've been working on your present by the way. You better measure up, Moony!_

 _I hope to see you soon._

 _Love,_

 _HJP_

Leaning back from his desk, Louis stuck his quill in the ink pot and let it sit there for a minute as he read over the letter.

He was a little hesitant telling Remus about his problems. He had never had anyone to confide in like this before but Remus was special. Remus would understand, he would care. After all, Remus had never really given up on him, even after all these years. No one had ever cared enough about him to do that, not anyone that he could truly remember anyway. Chewing his lip, he decided to keep the letter as it was and stood up and opened his window. Hedwig wasn't currently on her porch in his room, having flown off that morning before he left for breakfast. He would give her the letter to deliver when she returned. Meanwhile, he had homework to do.

Mournfully casting a glance at his bookbag where he knew his unfinished potions essay was, he groaned.

* * *

He drew his legs up to his chest, body shivering. Rain poured heavily outside and he could hear the sea crushing angrily as the storm raged on. Lighting struck, lighting up the small world around him. The cool drifted through the halls and he fought back another shiver. He couldn't feel his toes, not that that was much of a new thing for him. He had gotten used to it long ago.

 _Padfoot, no!_

The sound of a young boys laughter echoed through his head and he felt a choked sob rise up. He shoved the memory away. Azkaban didn't have any mercy for good memories. He refused to taint them, to lose them.

He had lasted this long, he could keep going. Keep pushing.

 _I swear if you don't put me down, Black, I'll-_

Biting his lip aggressively that a spark of pain chased it's way up, he shifted his body once more. He slid deeper into his cell, his legs shaking dangerously as he inched closer to the corner where he could hope to protect himself from the cold. It was fall now, he thought.

Sometimes he hated British weather. A lot.

A cackle sounded from his far right.

"Awww is Siri coooold?" Another cackle sounded. "Itty bitty baby is cold!"

"Shut up you old hag!" Another voice sounded, snapping at the woman.

He ignored them, wrapping his arms tightly around his waist.

The rain continued to pour.

The sound of echoing clicks somehow broke through the sound of the storm, seeming to pass every time the thunder stopped. Looking up, he warily eyed his cell door as the footsteps got closer and closer. Outside his cell, they suddenly stopped and he struggled to see who was standing there. He could make out the shape of three bodies, two men and a woman.

"Black." Ah. There was the warden, Auror Jackson. Bitter man. He supposed the poor bloke hated being stationed here. He didn't blame him. "You've got some visitors. Approach the door. Hands up and feet spread. I'm watching you."

Puzzled, he stood, ignoring the interested murmurs of his fellow prison mates. Reaching the door, he stopped and did as the warden had instructed. The door slowly swung open. He flicked his eyes to the side to see if he could get a better look at the people with Johnson but unfortunately they were standing in the dark shade of the hall. Johnson cuffed his wrists and ankles and wrapped a hand around his bicep, guiding him slowly out of the cell. He struggled to hold back a cry. He wasn't used to this much movement. He hadn't used his legs for much. They had been curled awkwardly for awhile.

Johnson shoved him into the hall and before he could turn his head, Johnson pushed him to walk forward. He supposed they were going to one of the interrogation rooms. Azkaban only had like two.

He was right, as he was soon being deposited into a chair and he sat silently as he was handcuffed to the table and the floor. He would have to stay in this chair then. Couldn't even walk around. How rude.

He kept his eyes on the tabletop.

"Knock on the door when you are finished in here, Ambassador. Ma'am."

"Thank you, Richard." A deep, heavily accented voice commented.

The sound of the door being shut echoed loudly in the otherwise silent room.

He swallowed heavily as the lone chair in front of him was pulled out. The metal legs scraped loudly against the stone. He was positive they would be marks left behind.

"Mr. Black." A high pitched, dainty voice said. He looked up in shock. A teenage girl sat in front of him, her silver hair pulled back in a complicated braid.

Who the hell brought a teenager to see him?!

He looked over her shoulder at the man in exasperation. He was a tall, strong shouldered man. The man looked at him blankly, seeming to be holding his hands up in a "What can you do?" kind of way.

He rolled his eyes.

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." The girl in front of him said. He returned his attention to him. She stared directly into his eyes, not at all bothered. He resisted the urge to flinch. She looked like she would gut him for even breathing in the wrong direction. Looking at her, he didn't doubt she would do it either.

"I'm sure it is." He grinned widely at her, his black and yellowed teeth no doubt showing. She continued to look unbothered. She raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

He cleared his throat. "What do you want?"  
The girl ignored him and looked over her shoulder at the man behind her. They seemed to have a silent conversation before the man nodded and knocked on the door. Auror Johnson opened the door and directed the man out.

"Ma'am?"  
"She's fine. Only I'm leaving."

"But-"  
"Go. I've got this." The girl said, her tone brooking no argument. Johnson clearly looked hesitant to leave her alone in the room with him, much to his disgust, but eventually relented, hesitantly closing the door once more.

The girl cleared her throat. "My name is Fleur Delacour."

"Good for you. I'd say my name but I'm sure you already know it." He snapped somewhat aggressively. The girl, Fleur apparently, look undeterred.

"I'll go straight to the point. I'm not here for you."

"Oh?" He hummed, a little interested despite himself. "Then why are you here?"  
"We have a common acquaintance. A Mr. HJP."

He straightened in his seat. "How do you know about him?"

"Call us business partners." Fleur said testily. "How I know him doesn't matter. What does matter is that I'm here to provide you some . . . incentive."

"For what?" He narrowed his eyes.

"For our trust. Mr. HJP has plans for you Black. He believes in your innocence and has a plan to get you out of here but that requires your corporation. I'm here to show you that we are serious about our endeavor to help you."  
"And what's in it for him? What kind of _plans_ does he have for me?" He spat out.

Fleur reached down and pulled a file out of a bag she had at her feet. She placed it on the table, out of his reach. "He has his reasons. I am unaware of them. I don't ask questions that aren't my business. Mr. Black. You could really use all the help you can get. Does it really matter what he wants in return?"

"Yes. I'd rather die in here than do anything unsavory." He hissed out between his teeth. For the first time since she entered, Delacour's face showed some emotion. Her jaw clenched and she glared at him.

"Mr. HJP is my friend, Mr. Black. He doesn't condone himself with illegal matters. He isn't that kind of character. Do not disrespect him in my presence."  
"Doesn't deal with illegal matters huh? Then explain this." He shifted his hands up as far as he could and weakly gestured at the space between them.

"As far as we are concerned, it's illegal to be keeping you here since you have had no trial and there is no actual evidence against you. We believe in giving you justice, Mr. Black. Please, allow us to help you."

"I'm not agreeing to anything until you tell me who this guy really is."

Fleur's jaw clenched again and she reached up to pinch the bridge of her nose. "Merde."

She locked eyes with him once more. "Mr. Black you can trust Mr. HJP. He only has your best interests at heart."  
"And why's that?"  
"Because he's your godson."

Sirius Black could say that he was surprised. His jaw dropped.

 **A/N: Ayyye. Short I know. Lots of sections. We are moving along though guys. I'm excited.**

 **So we have healing lessons with Pomfrey now, a letter to Remus (some bonding), and a visit to Sirius. Wonder what's up with that . . . .**

 **I've entered the Voltron fandom. Man, those ship wars are . . . crazy. I've also started Stranger Things but I'm not really sure about it yet so we'll see I guess.**

 **It's finals week next week. I want to die. I'm hoping to distract myself with this fanfic but we'll see. Can you tell I'm a great student? Pfft.**

 **Please review. It reminds me that people actually like this fic.**


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

"Ughhhhhhhh, this is impossible." George fell back on his back onto the ground, letting the book he was holding flop onto his stomach. "Why does it have to be so hard?"  
"Because it's extremely advanced transfiguration, that's why." Fred said with an eye roll, flipping his own book.

George sat up and threw his book at his twin. "I know that, Freddie. Geez."

Fred huffed as he dodged the book, sending an irritated look at George.

Louis moved and sat between them, laughingly ignoring their protests and current irritation with each other in favor of getting started. "It says here we need to keep a mandrake leaf under our tongues. For a month. A month." He whined.

"Nobody said it was going to be easy." Fred pointed out.

Louis hummed. "I know but that's going to be annoying." He studied the rest of the instructions. "We'll have to brew this potion," he tapped the page with the potion instructions with a look at George "once that month is over, using the leaf. It only gets more complicated and specific after that."

George sat up and read over Louis's shoulder. "Before that, we also have to recite an incantation every single day until we can do the transformation effortlessly. There's lots of meditating too. Apparently you need to get in touch with your spiritual energy and chakras to access the animalistic side of your being. It will also help the flow of your magic to limbs it doesn't tend to think of."

Fred groaned. "Great. Spiritual energy. What is this?"

"Magic." Louis deadpanned with narrowed eyes at the twins.

George shifted uneasily under his look. "It'll be worth it though."

Fred smiled gently. "Yeah. Yeah it will."

* * *

He sat on the edge of his bed, legs crossed on top of each other and a mirror in his hand. He cast a glance at Natasha behind him. Judging by the look she sent him he must look pretty pathetic.

He sighed and released a huff of breath, which resulted in his bangs blowing up and back into his eyes. "I know, I know. Okay. Here we go."

Locking his eyes onto the reflected planes, he took a slow breath before letting it go. He could feel his bones shift and without even flicking his eyes up, he knew other things were changing too. Gritting his teeth, he forced his body as a whole to shift. A snap of the bones cracked through the silence and he gasped loudly but otherwise continued pushing on.

When his body had finally settled, he chanced a look at the mirror that was being clenched tightly in his hands.

The boy staring back at him felt like a stranger. Literally.

Harry's hair had naturally grown out since the last time he was in this state. It was beginning to curl around his ears a little and was sticking up even more than usual. It was like a bird has made a nest atop his head and had forgotten about. Green eyes traced over a thinning face and swept down as they followed the rest of him. His skin was a bit paler than usual and while he had definitely gained a lot of weight, it looked like he was beginning to lose it again. Pressing a hand against his ribcage, he pushed and bit his tongue at the small twinge of pain that rose up because of it. Dark shadows clung to the area under his eyes and he owlishly blinked as he turned his head away.

Logically, he knew there was no real difference between Louis and Harry but it was hard for him to remember that. To him, there was a clear divide between the two. Louis was smart and a Hogwarts student. He had friends and knew how to talk to people and was mostly liked, if only because he was comfortingly quiet. Harry, on the other hand, was awkward and weak. Fragile. He didn't have any answers that mattered and no one wanted him around.

It sucks to think that of the two, Harry was the real one.

Shira had sent him out of this quest, to gain intel and trade secrets. He was a spy. But looking at himself, he didn't feel like a spy, like a fearsome warrior and potential leader in a war.

He felt small.

He didn't want to fight a war, much less lead another side in it. Why did he have to lead? Why did he have to do anything? Don't get him wrong, he believed Voldemort would come back and he believed the man needed to be stopped and he would happily track down every last member of the Dark Army if need be but why should anyone else get in the conflict? How many people would have to die before everyone realized how stupid and foolish they were?

Shira wanted him to make allies and learn how to destroy people. She wanted him to guide everyone into a new era, a better era, damn the consequences. And he saw the pros of her plan. But he also thought of the body count. The destruction and loss. The pain. Shira might not care about the consequences but he sure did.

But he was only a child. A child playing general in a war.

Gripping the mirror tighter, he supposed someone had to. Dumbledore, Voldemort, and the Ministry weren't going to fix anything.

But he wanted to do things his way. Screw Shira and Dumbledore and Voldemort and the Ministry and whoever else had plans for him. Whoever he was.

He was going to do things his way.

* * *

 _I'm not really sure what I'm supposed to write in here now that I know you're around._

 **Write whatever you want, Louis. I'm here for you, after all.**

 _Well yeah but . . . it's different now._

 **How so?**

He hesitated, the quill hovering in the air, uncertain as to how to explain his uneasiness with the situation. _You can respond, can consider what I've written and judge it. I don't know. I don't typically share my secrets with people. Ever._ Before, he had been alone but now? Now, he wasn't and he knew it.

 **Hmm.** The ink paused. **How about this. We can try a getting to know you exercise. You tell me about yourself and I'll share some things too. Build some comradeship. You can share anything, be it serious or completely trivial. Does that sound amenable?** Tom talked oddly.

Louis pondered this for a moment, before nodding. He wanted to understand more about the diary and he figured the best way to do so was through Tom. _Alright. Let's try. What do you want to know?_

 **How about you tell me about your family?**

Louis cringed. Of course that was the first thing Tom said. _I don't really have a family. I basically grew up in an orphanage after I was abandoned. My parents died when I was just a baby. No one really wanted me around I guess._

He expected the Diary to stall a little. Mentioning one was an orphan almost always made people uncomfortable. To his surprise though, there was barely any pause between his own writing and Tom's.

 **I too was raised in an orphanage actually. Like you, I never knew my parents. My mother died in labor and my father just wasn't around.**

 _I'm sorry Tom._

 **I'm sorry too, Louis. Now. What about school? You attend Hogwarts right?**

 _Oh yes. I'm a Ravenclaw and -_

* * *

 **Let's try that sort of mantra I mentioned earlier. You should do it every time we start to get it across. The longer it gets the better. It'll help solidify your identity, both to yourself and me.**

 _My name is Louis Thompson. My name is Louis Thompson. My name is Louis Thompson. My name is Louis Thompson. My name is Louis Thompson. My name is Lou-_

* * *

Louis lingered at the end of the hall, hugging the corner as he cast a look around, looking through the crowd of students that were pillaging about. It was in the middle of a block change and he had study hall now but was hoping to speak to someone. He was with Hermione and Neville, both of whom he had reluctantly forgiven. He still felt a bit miffed with betrayal, particularly with Hermione, but talking with Tom made him realize how little friends he actually had and how much they really meant to him. The lingering notes of a grudge struck deeply with him but he was doing his best to ignore it. It was mostly working. The twins were easier, particularly Fred, as was Neville but he couldn't ignore the burn entirely. It was like a constant itch for some reason, one he couldn't quite scratch to relieve.

"He should be down this hall." Hermione muttered behind him, her body heat warming his back as she fidgeted with unease. He swatted blindly behind him, his hand swiping her thigh briefly.

"He'll be here."

Neville, who was beside Hermione, twitched. "Are we sure this is a good idea? He doesn't want to talk to us. He made that perfectly clear." The boy muttered darkly. Louis felt a bit of pity inch its way up his chest but squashed it down. Neville didn't want nor need that, least of all from him. If he only knew . . . .

"Doesn't matter. There he is." They pointed.

Exciting the charms corridor was Draco Malfoy who was flanked by Crabbe and Theodore Nott. Before they could take that many steps, Marcus Flint was soon right by them, having appeared from nowhere. Flint and Crabbe were animatedly discussing something that Draco was nodding along with, occasionally tossing in his own points. Nott, who looked slightly ill, remained mostly silent, only offering something when looked at pointedly.

Louis thought the boy didn't want to be there.

As the group of almost all Slytherin's made their way closer to them, Louis and Hermione surged forward with a hesitant Neville trailing behind.

"Draco." He said as he made to stand in front of them, effectively halting the group. A few students swerved around, one sending a glare their way. He ignored it.

Draco eyed him suspiciously before sighing heavily. "Thompson."

"Oh we're on last names now?" He said, overly innocent and perhaps a bit too loud. He could see Hermione's jaw clench beside him.

Flint shoved himself forward, effectively preventing Draco from replying, if he even was. From the looks of it, the boy hadn't planned to do so anyway.

"What's this riffraff doing, Malfoy? Thinking they can talk to us? They're not your friends are they?" Something dark crossed over Flint's face as he stared stonily at Draco. The blonde didn't meet Louis's eyes as he replied.

"No. They're not."  
"What?" He heard Neville gasp in a strangled whisper. "Dr-Dray?"  
Draco didn't reply and Flint, shortly followed by Crabbe, laughed loudly.

"You didn't actually think he was friend did you? That he actually liked trash like you three?" Flint snorted and laughed louder when he was met with silence. He pointed wildly at them as he continued. "Oh that's gold." He took a step closer to them, ushing the others back. Louis took a step to the side to stand in front of Hermione and Neville, his chin set.

Flint tilted his head towards his chest, smirking at them. "What would Malfoy, a pureblood, want with you three? A blood traitor and two mudbloods?"  
Neville and a few surrounding people that had stopped to eavesdrop at Flint's words. Louis could feel Hermione flinch violently, her body bumping into his.

"That's enough." He snapped, letting his wand slide into his hand. "Take that back and apologize."  
Flint's smirk deepened and Crabbe chuckled behind him. "Or what, huh? Why don't you make me, freak."

Freak.

Freak.

 _Freak._

 _Freak. Freak. Freak._

The Dursley's voices, accompanied by the echoes of Dudley's friends and even some boys from the orphanage and France, echoed through his head loudly. His cheeks burned and his throat tightened as he felt an intense surge of rage overtake him, not at all dissimilar to the times he had accidentally gone a bit too far growing up, when his accidental magic ran rampant.

In the background, a glass shattered.

He took a step forward, his chest brushing briefly against Flint's as he crowded the boy's space.

"Stop it."  
Draco nudged his way from behind, shoving himself in between Louis and Flint. "He's not worth it." He wasn't looking at Louis. Flint snorted.

"Whatever."

Draco eyed Flint, Crabbe, and Nott, who were all by now ready to move it seemed, no longer that concerned with them. A dark cloud still hung over the two groups though.

"You have anything to say?" Louis asked the boy he still considered his best friend.

Draco swallowed thickly. "Yeah." His eyes darted to Flint before refocusing on Louis. He gripped his bag tighter before straightening his back and scowling mildly. "Move it. Mudblood."  
Louis's jaw clenched as he reached behind him, his hand immediately being clutched by Hermione's shaky one. He shoved his way forward, shoulder roughly slamming into and unbalancing not only Dr- _Malfoy_ but Flint and Crabbe too. He pulled Hermione and effectively Neville with him, ignoring the words being shouted at them as he walked furiously away from them, his ears ringing and body shaking.

* * *

 _Dear cub,_

 _I've missed you too. I'm sure if you asked politely, Hedwig would recount the embarrassing dance I did upon seeing her with a letter from you._

 _Genevieve sends her love, as well as this care package. She insists you eat it all and that she will know if "Scrawny Master doesn't follow simple directions"._

 _I haven't found a job yet, as you probably already know. Don't worry about me though, cub. I'm fine, I promise. The elves treat me well. You are lucky to have their friendship._

 _You mentioned the holidays in your last letter, does that mean you are planning to return to the Manor for your Yule Break? I think Gen is already decorating so if that wasn't the plan you might want to reconsider. She'd probably come kidnap you herself._

 _A letter arrived for you at the Manor the other day from someone named Shira? I sent it along with the care package. Who is Shira? A secret girlfriend perhaps? You grow up so fast._

 _I was wondering if you'd want to meet up soon. I know you have your secret identity to consider but I really do miss you, cub. I want to see you. We could meet somewhere in disguise and discreet, kind of like how we did for our first meeting though more private. I didn't fail to notice your choice in a public place, Mister. Very smart, that was._

 _Just think about it?_

 _Love,_

 _Remus_

Harry placed the letter down on his desk. He was in his room, having had dropped the Louis persona as it was a weekend and he didn't plan on being bothered. His current password was in parseltongue (something he hadn't used in a while but the disconnection was getting to him so he allowed the slip) so there was no chance of anyone unexpectedly coming in. He stood up and paced his room in a baggy white tee and blue plaid boxers, his feet bare. Merlin, he really hated wearing shoes.

He considered Remus's proposal. He really did miss the man and he didn't think it far too not visit often, since they're relationship was still developing. Bonding and all that jazz, he thought. He could disguise himself easily enough that no one would recognize him as either Harry or Louis and he trusted Remus could do so well enough as well, just for precaution. He could borrow the Marauder's Map to sneak into Hogsmeade, though he didn't know the village that well. Maybe he could convince the twins to help him? He was sure they wouldn't mind a little sneaking out. But how would he do so without revealing that he was a metamorphmagus, since it would be most advisable to go already in disguise? Unless . . . unless, he told them. He could let them in on it, much like he had with Tonks. It's not like he would have to reveal himself as Harry Potter either, since there was no reason to and it wasn't like the Map could tell on him, as he knew it used the name he was going by, the name he saw as his own. Nut would the twins really let such an obvious secret pass? He wasn't sure. Fred and George valued secrets and privacy but they also hated being lied to, even for good reasons.

Could he trust them with his real identity? Contrary to popular belief, Fred and George were really loyal. They kept secrets, especially important ones, and he knew they wouldn't hate him for it. They would believe him, would listen. The twins were also the first friends he had made, two boys that saw straight through him and found a way to climb his walls without him barely noticing until it was too late. They had proven time and time again to be good friends, ones that he felt very grateful for. They stood up for him and by him and had allowed him into their own home this summer, into their own little spaces, and they were working on important pieces of magic together, prank products for a future business, an improved Marauder's Map, and the Animagus Transformation. They deserved to have that trust and loyalty expressed back. They deserved the truth.

That settled it then.

He was going to tell them.

* * *

 _My name is Louis Thompson. I am twelve years old. I am a Ravenclaw second year at Hogwarts. My name is Louis Thompson. I am twelve years old. I am a Ravenclaw second year at Hogwarts. My name is Louis Thompson. I am twelve years old. I am a Ravenclaw second year at Hogwarts. My name is Louis Thompson. I am twelve years old. I am a Ravenclaw second year at Hogwarts. My name is Louis Thompson. I am twelve years old. I am a Ravenclaw second year at Hogwarts. My name is Louis Thompson. I am twelve years old. I am a Ravenclaw second year at Hogwarts. My name is Louis Thompson. I am twelve years old. I am a Rav-_ His hand ached but he continued to write the mantra, Tom encouraging him.

 **This is who you are.** Tom's words echoed in his head, the black ink drowning, suffocating.

He pushed on.

 _My name is Louis Thompson. I am twelve years old. I am a Ravenclaw second year at Hogwarts. My name is Louis Thompson. I am tw-_

 **A/N: Ahhhhhh**

 **That's all I've got to say.**

 **Pleeeeeease review :))))))))**


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

Pressing his thumb into the side of his forehead, Louis let his eyes flutter shut. He had been having terrible headaches lately. He was having one now and nothing he did was relieving it. He had even visited Madam Pomfrey once, to no success. Luckily though, it seemed he had gained an increase in appetite, returning him to normal once again. He was grateful for this as Madam Pomfrey had started eyeing him suspiciously whenever he met up with her for his healing lessons. He was sure she wouldn't appreciate it if he fainted from malnourishment while stocking her potions.

Bypassing the pain that was vibrating all across his skull, he finished the story he was telling Tom, a recounting of one of his childhood memories.

It didn't take Tom long to surprise, thankfully. Louis was glad to have a friend that liked to listen and talk with him. It made things less lonely. Made the absence of Draco easier to deal with. Though it did serve to also make him angrier with the boy . . . .

 **So this Davidson boy had his own little gang, manned by Marks and Stevens. And you got beat up for not paying a toll. And you purposely egged them on and went anyway. Every chance you got.**

 _You kind of make it sound worse than it is._

 **Merlin. How did you not get into Gryffindor?**

 _Must have been my charm, I guess._

 **There's the arrogance. I ask again. How are you not a Gryffindor?**

 _Maybe I'm just a spy sent by the lions to infiltrate the Ravenclaw House for their secrets._

 **. . . right.**

* * *

Chewing on his lip, Louis paced restlessly across his room. He hastily combed a hand through his hair, musing it up even more than it already was. He wasn't sure how many times he had done that but he was starting to think he had a new nervous habit courtesy pof his dad.

There were worse things to get. He found he wasn't all that disappointed.

Throwing himself onto his bed, Louis sighed heavily and loudly before falling backwards. Natasha, chiffed and scooted herself away from him in annoyance.

"Sorry Nat." he mumbled offhandedly.

Today was the day. D Day. The End of the World.

A knock echoed throughout the tense silence of his room and he sat up, startled. He cast a panicked glance to Hedwig. She stared back at him, unimpressed as if to say _Well? Answer it!_

Deciding Hedwig was right and that he needed to woman up, he stood up and opened the door to reveal two identical grinning gingers. Fred and George pushed themselves into his room and immediately took up space. George plopped practically on top of Natasha and snuggled up next to her, face burying into her fur. Nat made a noise Louis interpreted as annoyance but let him stay anyway, seeming to have given up on the foolish humans that kept bothering her. Fred laid across the end of Louis's bed, almost sitting on George's feet.

He rolled his eyes and joined the twins, daintily sitting on the corner of his bed. Fred snorted and yanked him down into their puppy pile. Natasha swatted at him with her tail and he huffed, chuckling a little, forced as it may be.

"So," George started "what's wrong?"  
He cleared his throat. "What makes you think something is wrong?"  
Fred peered at him flatly, unamused. "You told us to come here alone, that there was something important you had to tell us of the utmost secrecy, and now we're here and you look like you're about to faint."  
He spluttered. "I do not-!"  
"Yes you do mate." George interrupted, not at all bothered. "Just tell us."

He chewed on his lip, bringing his gaze to his lap for several pauses before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. He looked up again. "You have to promise that what I tell you never leaves this room. Literally. Only mention it in this room. You can't tell anyone. Not your parents or siblings or even the others. Promise me."  
Fred and George traded a look before replying together. "We promise."  
He released a breath he had most definitely been aware he was holding. "Okay, okay . . . I don't know where to start."  
"How about the beginning?" George suggested helpfully.

He laughed bitterly and even a little wetly. "That would probably just confuse you even more."

The twins shrugged then, not knowing what else to say and simply waited him out. He gasped out another breath, his chest burning tightly. He needed to get a hold of himself.

"Okay. Okay. Well, lately I've realized that I have other people to lean on and as such, can trust them with things I've kept hidden a long time. I haven't really told anyone this before, technically I haven't ever told anyone they just realized it themselves and I never had to actually say anything. Anyway. I have something important to tell you and I'm not sure how you'll take it but I have to do this. I can't keep lying about who I am. What I am. I just-"  
Fred leaned forward and placed a hand on his knee. "Louis. It's okay. We know."  
He felt his heart stop. "Y-You what?"  
Fred spared a glance at George before nodding. "We weren't sure at first but with everything that's going on, particularly with Draco, we kinda just . . . figured it out. Tonks might have hinted at it a little too."

"Wh . . . what? Tonks-? And you're not . . .? You don't hate me?"  
Fred shook his head. George snorted. "How could we ever hate you? Louis, you're our friend and we support you. We don't care that you're gay."

Wait. What?

"Gay?" He gasped out, shocked. "I . . . . I'm not gay!"  
Fred blinked in confusion. "You're not?"  
"No!" He yelled, eyes wide and heart beating furiously. Honestly, he was so messed up right now. "Well, I mean, I don't think I am? I haven't really thought about it but-. That's not what I was going to tell you!"  
"Oh." Fred looked down, cheeks warming in embarrassment, much to his surprise. He didn't think it was possible to embarrass either of the twins. Suddenly, a pillow hit Fred, causing the boy to topple to the side with a huff.

"I told you that wasn't it!" George yelled triumphantly, smirking smugly at his twin but also in exasperation. He turned to him. "Forget him, Lu. Mum dropped him too many times as a baby."  
"That's not how that works." He mumbled, still a bit dazed from Fred.

Fred sat up, tossing the pillow to the ground in frustration. "I'm sorry, Louis. I shouldn't have made assumptions."  
"It's okay." He mumbled, chest still burning.

"It's not." Fred protested.

"But that's not what this is about." said George.

"What were you actually going to tell us, Louis?"

Right. That.

He squared his shoulders. He was just going to go for it.

"That's not my name."  
"Huh?"  
"Louis." He said. "That's not my name. It never really has been."

"Okay," George broke in. "You've lost me."

Fred nodded slowly in agreement.

He took another breath. "When I was little, my parents died. You know this."  
Fred nodded. "Yes, then you went to the orphanage."

"No. I didn't." He confessed quietly.

"What?"

"I was sent to a family before the orphanage. My Aunt and Uncle and my older cousin. I lived with them until I was about eight."

"Wait what? Louis, or whatever, if you have relatives why don't you live with them?" Fred asked. George threw another pillow at him, hissing out that his brother was an idiot. He ignored them and continued talking.

"They didn't like me. At all. I didn't have a room when I lived there and I did all the chores and they always yelled at me and told me lies and I hardly got any food and sometimes they were a bit rough with me. When I was eight though, that changed. They suddenly started being really nice to me and one day they announced we were going on a vacation. To France.

When we got there, it was great. They took me with them sometimes and it seemed that maybe, just maybe, they actually liked me. We went to the market on one of our lasts days there and my Aunt gave me some money and told me to go grab some things from a nearby store. That she would meet me by the register. She never did. When I went looking for her, I saw her and my uncle and cousin laughing, walking away on the other end of the street. They had abandoned me and I knew that if I ran to meet up with them, I'd never actually make it. I'd lose them and get lost in the process. So, instead I stayed where I was and hours later, I was found by an officer, who dropped me off at the orphanage."  
"They . . . they just left you there?" George asked quietly, his face sad.

"They hurt you?!" Fred snarled.

"It's in the past. I'm over it. There's no sense crying over spilled milk, guys. We can't change what happened. Anyway, when I was brought to the orphanage, I had nothing and knew not a word in french. Luckily for me, there was an attendant there that knew english. She taught me french and I learned quickly. Unfortunately, the orphanage I was sent to was pretty poor and run down. We didn't have enough for everybody and so I snuck into town often to steal food from the vendors and to pick pockets. Some people didn't like that but it is what it is."  
"How did you not get caught?" George asked. "I have no doubt you're sneaky, I've seen it, but surely someone would have recognized you eventually?"  
He nodded. "You're right. They would. Except I didn't always look the same."  
Here, he allowed his body to relax and could feel his magic stretch out and adjust things, melding. He knew, without having to look into a mirror, that his eyes were now a rich gold and his hair a warm grey. The twins gasped.

"Y-You're . . . you're a metamorphmagus!" They shouted together. He was thankful for the silencing charms he had warded his room with.

He nodded. "Yes. When my relatives left in France, I saw it as a way to start over. I didn't want to be the same boy they had easily discarded and moreso, I didn't want them or anyone else to be able to find me. So I changed my appearance and became Louis Thompson. An all around average looking boy. One that easily blended in."  
"What was your name before Louis then?"  
He smiled. "When I became Louis, there were a few things I didn't change. One of these things was a scar. When I was ten, I met someone that recognized who I was because of it. Her name was Shira and she told me all about magic and wizards and the War and creatures but more that that, she told me about myself. About Harry Potter." He willed his magic to snap back and it was like a heavy weight was being lifted from his shoulders, his skin relaxing and features shifting into his resting look. The one he was meant to have. Hair became black and messy, eyes wide and green, cheekbones high and lips rosy plush pink. The scar carved itself between his eyebrows.

George and Fred gasped loudly.

"You're _Harry Potter?!"_

" _What the actual fuck!_ "

They continued to chatter, throwing out curses and questions and mostly just useless things for the sake of their shock and confusion. He let them, remaining silent until they calmed down.

"Why hide here though?" George asked. "Why lie? Don't you trust us?"  
Louis- _No. No he was Harry now. Here, he could be Harry, if just for another broken moment, he could be Harry. Louis Thompson wasn't real. He was a disguise. He was Harry Potter._ Harry looked down and shook his head tiredly.

"When Shira told me about Harry Potter, I was terrified. There was a whole world of people that were looking at me like I was something special, something strange. The only thing I had done was survive. Was take my spot in the living while my parents paid the price. More than that, there was a whole world that would look to me for answers I didn't have. People that would try and manipulate me. Use me. I already knew that someone had purposely placed me with the Dursley's, despite there being no legal order to do so. I knew I had to protect myself, learn who to trust without masks on. I could do that as Harry but it would be so much harder. A bigger game to play. I was willing though, Shira was not."  
"Shira." Fred said. "The woman that told you about the magical world?"  
Harry nodded. "Shira is a vampire who was sort of like a spy during the last War. She was close to Voldemort, heard a lot of his plans. Shira taught me a lot, like wandless magic and politics and defense in general. I owe her so much."  
"And what does she want out of this?" Fred asked, eyes narrowed. "No one like that helps people like you out of the kindness of your heart."  
Harry smiled sadly. "You're right. Shira wants me to create a third side in the next War, for we all know Voldemort isn't actually dead and will return one day. She wants a side that protects wizards with Dark natures, including creatures, without ostracizing and oppressing them. A side where Light wizards are treated as equals rather than pawns, as valued soldiers and threats. A side that wants to aid and heal the wizarding world rather than break it apart even more." He released a sigh. "She wants me to lead this side. It's why she's trained me so much, particularly in politics as much of the war can be fought in the Wizengamot."

"A third side?" George questioned, looking hesitant.

"Wouldn't that just split everyone up even more?"  
"Or it would unite them. Why choose a side in the War when you can compromise? The only people that would be caught in the mess would be the ones that actually deserve it."  
"What do you mean?"  
Harry hesitated before replying. "Shira doesn't know this but I've been looking up Death Eaters and everything I can about Lord Voldemort. I don't mind being a more neutral, hopefully peaceful, party in the war but that doesn't mean I'm going to let the Dark get away with what they've done. So I'm gathering everything I can about them. What better way to do that than on their home turf? It's not like they're expecting Louis Thompson either."

"You're acting as a spy. Shira wants information on everyone and you want to take down the Death Eaters and You-Know-Who. That's why you lied." Fred muttered bitterly.

Harry shook his head. "No. That's why I'm here, it's not the reason I lied."

"Then why?" asked George.

"Because I don't know who to trust right now and I have to protect myself. Shira is suspicious of Dumbledore and while I don't think he has any ill intentions in regards to Harry Potter, I also don't know if he will treat me like I need to be once he discovers the truth. I didn't want to come to school where everyone would stare at me and I would be a puppet for the Headmaster, for everyone. I wanted to be my own person and Louis let me be that."

George picked at the seam on his jeans. "I understand where you're coming from but why not tell us sooner? Surely you know we would have kept your secret?"  
"I needed to figure that out first. You have to understand, I've barely worn my own skin in the past four years. I've been Louis that whole time, to everyone really. It wasn't just me trying to see if you would keep my secret, it was a matter of me being ready to let it go. To be . . . Harry again."

They sat in silence. It wasn't tense nor was it comfortable, it just was. Harry wondered what the twins were thinking. If they hated him. Pitied him. thought of all the times he had ached to tell someone, to give up this burden, and he prayed that it wouldn't all blow up in his face.

Fred took a noisy sigh, drawing his attention back up to where the twins had been having another silent conversation. George nodded shortly and Fred met Harry's eyes.

"Okay. Look, we're not pleased that you kept this from us but-"

"But we get why you did." George interrupted. "You're almost thirteen, still a kid. You were alone and terrified and you had to protect yourself with everything you had. We can't fault you for that."

Feeling his chest tightening once more, Harry swallowed thickly and nearly startled when a hand found its way onto his knee. He looked up to meet Fred's freckled face and stern eyes.

"Thank you for sharing with us. We're grateful to be your friends, Louis."

He struggled to swallow again, his throat suddenly feeling a lot more congested than before. "Harry. Call me Harry. When it's just us."

Fred smiled. "Harry then."

George jumped from his spot and landed in a heap between Harry and Fred, his arms wrapping around the both of them, getting a groan from his brother and a squeal from Harry. "So, Harrikins, what else have you been hiding besides your entire face and name and identity really?"

Despite the statement, Harry chuckled lowly. "Well, my birthday is obviously not December 31. That's just the date I decided to give myself at the orphanage. Another detail to help hide myself."

"July 31 isn't it?" George mumbled into Fred's knee. Fred swatted at his head.

Harry hummed. "Yep."

"What else?" Fred asked.

Harry bit his lip and cast a look at Natasha, who was licking her paws.

"Well, you know Sanguini?"  
"Your snake?" Harry nodded. "What about him?"

"Well, er, I can sort of . . . talk to him?"

George looked at him with wide eyes. "You're a parseltongue?"  
Shyly, Harry nodded.

" _Awesome_." The twins grinned.

Harry shrunk a little, feeling self conscious. "Really?"

"Dude. Can you talk to lizards and dragons too? They're kinda related yeah?"

Harry frowned. "I don't know actually. Never tried."

"Mate, if you can talk to dragons Charlie would literally marry you."

Harry snorted. "Too bad I'm after Bill."

George sat up and clutched a hand at his heart. "Harry!"

Harry ignored him as he continued. "He's the heir after all. I'm sure being aligned with the Weasley's would boost my popularity in the Light circles. Definitely gain a political boost."

"And to think I thought you'd be after me." George moaned pitifully.

Harry snorted. "Don't be ridiculous. I'd be after Fred."

George gasped dramatically as Fred roared with laughter, jabbing a finger at his twin as he fell backwards onto his back.

"Such betrayal!"

As the twins began to wrestle with each other, Harry laughed. The tightness in his chest finally released itself, being replaced with a soft, gentle warmth that stretched all the way to his toes and he thought that maybe things were starting to look up.

* * *

 _He moved down the halls, bare feet brushing against the cold, hard floor. They ached, both because of the burning chill and the stinging cuts he knew he was making in his ungraceful haste._

 _He was in nothing but his boxers and a baggy shirt, having had dragged himself from his bed unceremoniously. He wasn't sure where he was going or why he had gotten out of bed, just that he was going somewhere._

 _The halls were empty at this time of the night and shadows were everywhere. The dark clung desperately to everything and he swore eyes were on his as he spun this way and that, trying to find them._

 _He stopped in the center of the hall, his chest moving up and down rapidly as if he were still running. His legs shook._

" _Who's there?!" He yelled out._

 _No one answered._

" _I know you're there!"_

 _A noise behind him echoed loudly and he spun around quickly only to be met with nothing. There was nobody there, no hint as to what had caused the noise, but he knew someone, something, had to be around here somewhere. He knew it._

 _He took a hesitant step forward, heading into the direction he thought the noise came from. Patting himself down, he cursed, just now realizing how he didn't have his wand on him. That was irregular of him._

 _ **Stupid. Stupid stupid stupidstupidstupid . . .**_

 _Something wet fell on his cheek and he nearly shrieked, his senses high and alert. Triggery. Lifting a hand up slowly, he touched it and drew it back. Red stained his fingertips._

 _Panicked, he took a hasty step back, nearly falling down with his stumbling moves.  
_ " _What?" He whispered out sharply, confused._

 _To his horror, the longer he stared at his hands, the redder they became. Red stretched all over his hands, stopping just pass his wrists in messy blemishes. Uncontrolled. Splatters. He felt the wetness again on his face in little spots, some even on his throat._

 _The halls seemed to get darker._

 _A chuckle came from the shadows and he jerked, looking around trying to locate it._

" _Oh, Louis." A deep, rich voice said coldly._

 _He met red eyes._

 _He screamed._

He sat up with a scream on his lips, body trembling. Natasha made a noise beside him but he ignored her and Hedwig's now worried croons as he threw his sheets aside and ran to the bathroom, where he heaved into the toilet. When his body was done wracking itself with dry heaves and shakes, he flushed the toilet.

Slowly, shakily, he dragged himself to the sink and clutched the edges of it, eyes closed tightly. Lifting his head, he opened his eyes and was met with the reflection of a pale, sickly looking boy.

Sighing weakly, he moved his hands to wash them only to freeze.

His hands were painted red.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

He could feel the panic rising in him. The blood or paint or whatever it was was all over him. It stained his hands and the front of his robes, as if he had just splashed it all over him. His hands shook as stepped into his bathroom, turning the sink on and hastily beginning to scrub at his skin, desperate to get the stuff off of him.

He had no idea how it got on there, how any of this had happened. He didn't really remember falling asleep and he only had faint traces of his dreams but even then he was sure they held no key to what the fuck was going on. He couldn't remember. He couldn't remember.

His breaths started coming in faster and he struggled to control himself. He couldn't lose it. Not now. Not yet.

His vision started to blur as his nails scratched over his skin, the pasty white now an angry red. Still shaking, he turned the water off and turned away. He didn't want to know what he looked like right now.

Louis ran to his desk where the diary remained opened from earlier.

 _Tom. Tom you have to help me. I don't know what's going on!_

 **Louis. Louis, what's wrong?**

 _I don't know! I just woke up covered in blood. It was all over my hands and it's on the front of my robes Tom! What's going on? What's happening to me?!_

 **Calm down, Louis. Focus. Are you breathing alright? Your handwriting is a bit messy and you're writing too fast. Count your breaths, Louis. Before you hurt yourself.**

He struggled to do as Tom instructed. His chest hurt. His throat hurt. Everything hurt. He couldn't catch his breath, couldn't grasp onto anything right now. His tears ran down his cheeks now, hot and fast and scared. They wouldn't stop. He dug his fingers into his hair, nails catching on to his scalp. He pulled gently.

 _Stop crying._ He tried to tell himself. _Stop it._

The ache in his chest grew and he moved one of his hands down to his ribs, where he pressed in, hoping to relieve it. It didn't work.

Louis didn't know how long he stood over the desk, anxiety and fear clutching desperately at his consciousness, but when he finally calmed down enough to look around, to focus, he found himself curled in a ball on the floor, his back to the wall. His face felt hot. Too hot.

Sniffling, he slowly sat up and forced his legs to unfold so he could stand. Bringing his attention back to the diary, he picked his quill up.

 _I'm okay._ No you're not. _Tom, what's happening to me?_

 **It's okay, Louis. You might have just sleeped walk. Perhaps it was paint? Or maybe you accidentally hurt yourself?**

Frowning, he tried to remember but the only thing he could recall was a voice. He shuddered.

 _I don't remember going anywhere, Tom._

 **I'm sure it's nothing, Louis. Just a combination of sleep deprivation and an overactive imagination. You're not very good at taking care of yourself, right? Remember last year? All that starvation?**

Louis supposed Tom had a point. He was having sleep issues lately. And he did have terrible self care habits.

 _Okay Tom. Thank you._

 **Of course, Louis. That's what I'm here for after all. It's a good thing you have me to take care of you. Now go to sleep. You've had a rough night.**

Yeah. . . yeah he had. Running a still shaky hand through his hair, he dipped his quill in the ink one last time. _Goodnight, Tom._

 **Goodnight, Louis.**

Louis wouldn't think until morning that he had never told Tom anything about his first year.

* * *

"You look like shit, mate." was the first thing Fred told him the next morning as the twins piled in next to him at the Ravenclaw table for breakfast.

He sighed. "I feel like shit."

George hummed. "Rough night?"  
Louis took a long sip from his goblet. "Something like that."

"Have you visited Madam Pomfrey?"

He shook his head. "She can't help me. It's just stress. Nightmares."

Fred gave him a sympathetic pat on the back. "That sucks, Lu."

He closed his eyes. They had no idea. "Yeah."

George leaned in closely, eyes darting around him for a second before focusing on Louis. "It's okay to call you Lu right? I know you got the whole, you know, but-?"

He shook his head tiredly. "It's fine. Really. I'm used to it."

Fred lowered his voice too. "I was thinking about all of this last night and man, I don't know how you do it. It's got to be exhausting. Not to mention lonely."

He stared down at his plate. "It is what it is."

George shifted next to him. "Yeah but-"

He stood up. "I think I'm going to go see Madam Pomfrey after all guys. I'll talk to you later."

"But you barely even ate anything!" George argued.

He gave him a smile that he knew was pathetic. "I'll just ask her for a nutrition potion. My stomach's been killing me anyway."

"But-" He turned away, not wanting to here what they were saying.

He didn't go to Madam Pomfrey.

* * *

" _Tell me more about them." He whispered into the quiet of the room. Next to him, Remus sighed heavily. Longingly._

" _You're mother was the kindest person I had ever met. She was always standing up for people. Always quick to defend. I think that's part of why her and James clashed at first. She didn't understand his teasing, taking it for cruelty. Lily, she . . . if you could bottle up that feeling you get when the sun is warming you skin in just the right way where it doesn't burn, she was that. She was fire, but only just so. Just enough to keep you warm. No one listened like her. Hugged like her."_

 _Harry was quiet, thinking of nothing but the picture of his parents dancing. The women with red hair, laughing. Warm._

 _Remus rolled onto his side. "You remind me so much of her. At first glance, you're just like James. Full of laughs and jokes and smirks. But you peel that away, when you really look . . . I can see her again. I can feel that same warmth in you, Harry. They loved you so much . . . ."_

 _He swallowed thickly, tears sliding silently down his cheeks for reasons he couldn't explain._

" _Thank you Harry. Thank you for reminding me what that felt like. What they felt like. I can never thank you enough."_

 _His hands fisted the sleeping bag they had drug out._

" _Goodnight Remus." He whispered minutes later._

 _Movement sounded next to him._

" _Goodnight Harry."_

* * *

He found himself pulling away from his friends after the incident with the blood/paint/whatever. His anxiety clung to him, chasing after him. He wondered if he was losing his mind, if he was seeing things. His fear brought back memories of the Dursley's, of days locked in the cupboard for endless hours. Hours upon hours that turned into days where he would see nothing but darkness, left only with himself and the spiders that lurked in the corners. The ache in his chest grew and gradually, he shoved everyone away as far as he could.

His letters grew shorter, the words dulling and erasing as he fought with what to say. He didn't want to worry Remus and his anger with Shira only grew, resulting in the silent treatment. Fleur sent him sparse updates as asked, but he only replied with the bare minimum, not feeling for the loftiness of tradition and society. Draco was already ignoring him and so he finally gave up trying to reason with the boy that didn't want a thing to do with him. The boy that couldn't even look at him. Hermione and Neville had already been pulling away, he just severed the ties by avoiding them. They still sent him looks in the hall but they were easily ignored. Luna and Cho stuck close to him at meals but accepted his silence, Cho only casting worried looks every so often. Luna merely hummed. Ginny was difficult. She yelled and raged at him for his silence, dragging him to meals and forcing him to hang out with her. She let him wallow, let him remain quiet, but she refused to let him do it alone. Slowly, she stopped asking questions and only frowned and huffed, angrily turning book pages and slashing her wand with practice hexes. Fred and George were the worst. They didn't yell at him or ignore him or ask him questions, just sat with him. They chatted with him as if he were replying back, nodding their heads and carrying the conversation. They laid in his bed, limbs thrown atop each other. They shoved him into the shower and gave him fresh clothes and they exchanged his pile of books for newer ones when they knew he had finished the first stack. They stayed.

His talks with Tom grew. Louis felt a draw to write to the diary, desperate to talk to someone but not knowing how or what to even say. How could he explain to them what he was feeling? Thankfully, Tom listened. Tom didn't even ask about his current issues. He listened when Louis wished to vent but mostly they talked about trivial things, like his stay in the orphanage and his relationship with Hermione and Draco and how his classes were going. Louis told Tom simple things too, like his favorite color and what extra subject he was studying that week and what fiction books Ginny had snuck into his pile of textbooks. He felt closer to Tom as such, not as nervous as before.

His dreams continued to. A voice talked to him, always the same voice, but every time he woke up he couldn't remember what was said. All he knew was that they left constant headaches and the pain relieving potion was starting to lose its effectiveness.

He continued with his lessons with Madam Pomfrey. The mediwitch kept shoving potions down his throat and asking him about his health. She made him take a nutrition potion every three days now after he revealed his eating problems. Thankfully she believed him when he said it wasn't intentional. If he was having a particularly bad day, she even sent him off early with a dreamless sleep potion for later. He was grateful.

He slacked off on his metamorphmagus training. He stopped letting it loose when alone, when with the twins. A part of him was insisting he hide his face always. He wasn't sure why but he listened to it anyway. His instincts had never proved him wrong. The endurance exhausted him though. His skin felt tight, tighter than it had in years. It puzzled him, for it wasn't like he let the mask slip often anyway, but he also knew he had grown lax at Hogwarts, having had taken advantage of his privacy. He didn't have to wear it as often as he had in France growing up. He had been free, if only for a few hours.

Louis was tired. He was tired of hiding. Of talking. Of lying.

But he put his robe on and checked his brown hair in the mirror once more and he went to Charms anyway, shoulders heavy and feet dragging.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

"So what's the plan?" George asked as Fred adjusted the strings on his jumper.

"We'll sneak out right before dinner. You'll meet me by the entrance to the tunnel that leads us to Hogsmeade. You'll take me to the Three Broomsticks and from there we'll split off. We'll meet up back at the tunnel entrance at 11 and use the disillusionment charm to get back to our common rooms." Louis told them lowly over his book.

They were in the back of the library, the three of them seated far away from prying eyes, discussing how he was going to meet up with Remus with them as a guide.

"Sounds simple enough." hummed George.

"Why the Three Broomsticks? Wouldn't that be a bit too obvious? Madam Rosmerta is sure to tell on you." piped up Fred.

He turned a page of his book. "The crowd will help conceal me and will eliminate the chances of Remus and I being overheard." He flicked his eyes upward, smirking lightly. "Besides, it's not like I'll look twelve when I go in."

Fred's mouth rounded into an O as he connected the dots. "I forgot you could do that." George snorted rudely. Louis smacked him with his potions book.

"So we can just mess around while you're talking to some bloke?"

He shrugged. "Sure. Go to Zonko's. You know he won't snitch."

George nodded. "That he won't. Good ole Zonko."

"How's he not dead yet?" Fred asked aloud.

George faked a gasp. "Freddie! You can't say things like that!"

"What?" Fred said, looking defensive and perhaps a bit confused.

Louis cleared his throat, cutting off a bout of sure teasing before it could start. "Actually, if you guys could pick something up for me that'd be great. I'll give you the money of course. With a bonus."

Fred hummed. "Sure, mate. What do you need?"

He slid his notebook out from under his pile of books and pulled out a torn piece of paper. "There's a list right there. Most of it can be bought from the apothecary. You'll need to go to the book store too though and maybe the jewelry shop."

George took the list as he passed it over, eyes scanning it's contents. He raised a brow as he read over them but refrained from saying anything. "Yeah we can get you this."

"Thanks guys." He rubbed his temple, feeling a headache come on. "I appreciate it."

* * *

"Don't forget your essay due Friday!" Flitwick reminded them as most of the class shuffled quickly out of the classroom. Fidgeting, Louis approached the man's desk.

"Professor?"

Flitwick looked up from the pile of parchment he had been previously examining. He seemed a bit surprised to see Louis.

"Ah, Mr. Thompson. What can I do for you?"

Louis squeezed the handle of his backpack slightly. "I was wondering if you could answer a couple of questions I have. If you have the time, sir."

Flitwick waved off his concern quickly, motioning for him to sit in the chair beside the man's desk. "Nonsense, young man. My classes for the day are over. What is it you need to ask?"

"Well," he sat down "I recently gained emancipation with Gringotts and don't worry I'm living somewhere safe with an adult," sort of "I was just wondering what the age of employment is here in the wizarding world?"

If Flitwick was surprised by Louis's admission he didn't show it, merely scratched his jaw mindlessly before answering. "Many places require you to be 17, as that's the age a young magick is considered an adult, but several places will hire at 16 and a few 15." Louis stared at him, waiting to see if Flitwick had anything else to add, and when the man remained silent, he was relieved. He didn't want Flitwick to ask any questions.

"I see. Thank you, professor. Another thing. You know I live in France and that my admissions to Hogwarts is deemed strange. It would have been so much easier, for all parties, if I had attended Beauxbatons. I still live in France, sir, and I was just wondering if it would be possible to transfer. Not that I'm wanting to, just looking into in case it becomes necessary."

Flitwick hummed. "Transferring students has been done in the past, though it's a long process. You'd be required to fill out all sorts of paperwork, for both schools, and you'd have to take placement exams to be properly fitted at Beauxbatons. With transfer students, one is placed by year or age but by skill. By what you need to learn. After that, should your request for transfer be accepted, you'd have to meet with the Board of Governors, again for both schools. Withdraw purposes for here, acceptance procedures for theirs. Once that's complete, you'd have a meeting with Beauxbatons headmistress and an advising professor the school had selected for you to discuss your upcoming school year situation."

Louis nodded his understanding. "And who would I have to notify here that I wish to transfer?"

"Professor McGonagall would be the overseer for a transfer request but I could

inform her myself of your decision as your Head of House."

"Could the student transfer back to their original school?"

Flitwick looked uncertain for a moment before nodding. "Yes. You'd just have to do the process all over again, though not as in depth I'd imagine since we'd already have your files on board."

"I see. Thank you again, professor. I'll inform my guardian, I suppose, of this. One more question, sir."

Flitwick waved a hand for him to continue.

"Could you mail this for me?"

* * *

The plan went exactly as he hoped it would and before he knew it, he found himself in an alley running alongside the Three Broomsticks. He was awkwardly stuffing his clothes into a bag, having had changed into one's borrowed from the twins. He couldn't exactly fit in his regular ones after all.

It had been awhile, to him, since he had last morphed into an older teen. He had favored this form before, when he was younger and Shira was training him in things much too mature for his child self.

He was tall, well . . . tall compared to his usual height anyway. And he filled the clothes well. He looked mostly the same, though his hair was darker and his eyes a different shade but they weren't important. Not really. All that mattered was that he didn't resemble Harry Potter or Louis Thompson too much right now.

He walked into the restaurant, quickly gaining a seat near the bar. He ordered a water while he searched the room.

Remus was already there, seated in a booth near the back, with his back to the wall. His amber eyes traced the crowd, scanning. Always watching, always waiting. Harry supposed the man's time at war never really left him. He didn't blame him.

Standing up and leaving his glass behind him, he walked over to Remus and gracefully took the seat across from him. Remus stared at him, eyes a bit bewildered at the sudden appearance of a supposed stranger.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?"

"Well of course you do, Remus." He said casually, as if he wasn't aware his face was indeed one Remus had never seen.

Remus's eyes narrowed at the use of his name. "I'm pretty sure I don't."

"Then why ask?"

Remus visibly breathed through his nose. "Look, I'm just trying to meet up with someone so if you could please-"

"Oh, Harry's already here."

Remus tensed and it was like a change came over him. Aggression poured from him in slow pulses. He leaned forward and practically hissed at him.  
"How do you know about him?"  
"Well he _is_ famous, Lupin." He said disinterestedly. Before Remus could no doubt attack him, he continued on. "Let's just say Harry and I are very well acquainted. He sent me."

Remus fought back a snarl. Inwardly, Harry felt some remorse. He had trained for this. He knew how to set people on edge, to get them to reveal what he wanted them to. Shira had taught him so much and so well. But to use these tactics on Remus felt wrong. He hadn't taken this into account. It had never mattered before.

But he hadn't been dealing with someone he cared about before either.

"Harry never mentioned a friend, much less having one sent in his place."

He traced the table with a finger. No dirt. Nice. "Oh Harry didn't send me in his place. He's here too."

Remus fought not to but he still saw his eye twitch in an urge to glance around. "Is he?"

Harry fought back a smile. Despite himself, this was amusing. "Indeed he is."

Remus clenched a fist. "I didn't see him."  
"You wouldn't have. He's not looking like himself tonight. Can't properly sneak out with your own face now can you?" And with that, Harry leaned forward, invading Remus's space, who started to sputter, and winked cheekily at the man.

He knew for a fact his eyes had just turned green. He loved that game.

Remus froze in his sputtering, no doubt having had caught the shift too.

" _Harry?!"_ He harshly whispered.

Harry grinned and swiped the man's drink, taking a sip. "Hey Remus."

"W-What . . . How?!"

Harry hummed. "This is actually what I wanted to talk to you about." He stood up. "Follow me."

He didn't bother to look behind him as he walked over to the Floo. He knew Remus was following him. Stepping through, he allowed himself to be taken to Potter Manor.

He wasn't immediately bombarded with house elves, having sent the letter ahead of him already informing them he would be stopping by and to not disturb him.

He took a seat on the sofa and waited.

Remus stepped out of the Floo, breathing a little laboured.

He looked at Harry in exasperation. "You walk fast you know that?"  
He shrugged.  
Remus sat down next to him and waved at hand at him. "What is this? I understand not wanting to be caught but isn't this a bit extreme? Polyjuice maybe? Or did one of the older students apply glamours. Your face doesn't look that different I suppose. And the application was obviously weak on the eyes."

Harry shook his head. "It's not like that, Remus."

"Then what is it?"

Harry took a deep breath and willed himself to morph. He felt the bones shift and his hair move, could feel his body pushing itself back to the way it was meant to be. Here and now, he was just Harry. Simple, twelve year old Harry.

"I'm a metamorphmagus."  
Remus's shoulders untensed. He didn't say anything for a minute.

"You don't typically look like this do you?" He finally said quietly. Harry shook his head. "That's how you attend Hogwarts. No one knows you're Harry Potter."

He said nothing.

Remus suddenly sat straight. "When you were younger, you adjusted your hair a lot. Changed the length of it all the time. James knew it was a possibility, since your line is so close to the Black line, and he himself had shown the same abilities as a baby. But we all assumed you'd grow out of it like he did." Remus met his eyes and smiled sadly. "Clearly you did not."  
"No," he said. "No, I didn't."

"Is this the part where you finally tell me that story you promised? Your whole mysterious background that make sme understand everything about you?" Harry laughed despite himself as the man's bluntness and sure enough he told him a story very similar to the one he had given the twin's.

He told Remus everything. About the Dursley's and France and Shira and every little bit in between.

When he was done, Remus wiped a hand down his long face. "And what now?"  
Harry frowned. "What do you mean?"  
"What are you going to do now that a few people know your secret? Surely that changes things for you."  
"People needed to know."  
"But why?"

"I won't be returning to Hogwarts next year. Hopefully."  
Remus frowned. "Why not? You're doing well there and no one really knows. Isn't that what you wanted?"  
He shook his head. "That's what Shira wanted but I've come to realize our goals don't 100% coincide. I'm working on something, something big that I can't tell you about yet since it's that important, but if it goes well, then it changes everything."

Remus didn't look happy about it but he didn't push Harry to say anything more on it. They talked for about an hour, chatting over the same topics that they usually did, but he had never felt more honest then he did then.

That night, long after he had left Remus and returned to the castle with the twin's, he slept soundly curled into Natasha, no nightmares or doubts.

 **A/N: Heeeyyyy. I'm terribly sorry it took so long for this update. A lot has happened. I dropped out of my last college and transferred to a new one for the fall. And I was job searching, which took like two months. And now I'm looking for a place to live and on top of that my depression has been shit but today I managed to get this one out. So yay!**

 **I'm probably going to go through this whole fanfic and straighten it up a bit soon just fyi. It's kinda all over the place and a mess but nothing new should be added to it so you shouldn't have to reread anything. Unless you wanted to of course.  
There's about ten chapters left and the next one is Halloween so it picks up pretty fast after that. Thanks for reading guys and please review. I could use some nice comments right now.**


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